: . 

i-iljwfii/tjij 

j i • ' 













Glass T'Z 3 
Rook - ^\35? 
Copyright N° 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



















THE PALADIN 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

THE HILL 
BROTHERS 

THE PROCESSION OF LIFE 
THE SHADOWY THIRD 
THE PINCH OF PROSPERITY 
JOHN CHARITY 

LIFE AND SPORT ON THE 
PACIFIC SLOPE 
THE PALADIN 


THE PALADIN 


As Beheld by a Woman of Temperament 


BY 

Horace Annesley Vachell 

ii 

AUTHOR OF “BROTHERS,” “THE HILL,” ETC. 



NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
1909 



COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY 
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 

Published , October , 1909 


n 


Cla. 24 8 0 8 7 

SFF 25 1009 


|c 




I dedicate this book 
to my little daughter 

Utr&t* Sgtteltfln Annrslry Harfpll 


and to other maids of high and low degree 
who , by a perusal of its pages , may learn , 
perhaps , that seeming paladins cannot be 
taken with impunity at their own valuation 



CONTENTS 

BOOK I 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I Which Introduces Our Paladin . 1 

II Tpie Paladin’s Little Mater ... 14 

III We Move Amongst Mummers ... SO 

IV In Bloomsbury 45 

V Contains a Communication .... 58 

VI A Cloud in a Clear Sky 73 

VII Miranda Consults the Cards ... 90 

BOOK II 

VIII The Paladin's Quest 101 


IX The Pleasant Land of France . . . 115 

X The Paladin Perceives that Virtue 


May Bring Its Own Reward . . . 137 

XI The Little Mumsie Sits Up . . . .149 

XII A Tower of Strength *..... 1 62 

XIII The Quest Begins Again 176 

XIV Which Establishes the Axiom, “ It 

Pays to be Good ” 186 


BOOK III 

XV After Four Years . 

XVI Esther Justifies Expectation 
XVII Miranda Writes a Letter 


203 

219 

230 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII Our Paladin Flirts with Opportunity 240 
XIX Alice Adorns Herself for the Paladin 252 


XX Esther's Vision is Blurred .... 265 

XXI Rain in Cavendish Square .... 280 

XXII The Paladin Lets Himself Go . 293 

XXIII At the Telephone 300 

XXIV We Behold the Paladin Cornered . 315 

XXV Talin 330 

XXVI De Profundis 345 

XXVII An Ideal 361 


XXVIII The Paladin Beholds Himself as He Is 380 


BOOK I 


CHAPTER I 

WHICH INTRODUCES OUR PALADIN 

Esther shed no tears when the lamentable news was 
told to her by the doctor, who had been summoned 
hastily in the middle of the night. The blow was so 
sudden and heavy, as if dealt by a bludgeon, that its 
effect was to deaden rather than quicken the girl’s sen- 
sibilities. Her father had died by his own hand! The 
other blows which followed — loss of fortune, the sense 
that she must leave her home and the things she loved 
— hardly made impress at the moment, so dazed was she 
by the first brutal assault of fate. Not till long after- 
wards did she realise that, in the highest sense, she had 
never loved a father who had given undivided energies 
and interest to an immense business. To his only child 
Douglas Yorke had offered toys and sweetmeats, and, 
as she grew older, whatever else she might want. To 
ask for anything became to Esther a synonym for re- 
ceiving it. She never asked for love, because she did 
not know what love is. Before she was fifteen she had 
been told that her father spoiled her terribly. This 
intelligence was accepted calmly, without reflection, in 
the same spirit with which she accepted chocolates and 
trinkets. Probably she believed that her father adored 
her because he gratified every girlish whim. Most un- 
doubtedly she was convinced that she adored him be- 


THE PALADIN 


cause he had never scolded her, or found fault, or be- 
haved like the fathers of other girls she knew. Once 
or twice she had wondered why many fathers kissed and 
caressed their little daughters. Mr. Yorke had never 
caressed her, and his kiss, morning and evening, was 
impressed upon the centre of her forehead. 

Next day a sealed envelope was brought to her. It 
contained a pathetic message: 

“ I have no excuse to offer for what I am about to 
do except this: I am too old and too tired to begin 
life again.” 

Too old and too tired! Esther wept when she read 
the unsigned lines. For the first time in her life the 
ministering angel, ardent to soothe and console, leapt 
into being. She asked herself passionately: Had she 
been blind to the fact that he was old and tired? She 
had never thought of him as old; she had never sus- 
pected that he might be tired. Always she had watched 
him come and go, punctual to the minute, an automa- 
ton, the pattern man of business, never flurried, never 
irritable, never untidy; the very pink of respectability 
and integrity. 

His ruin involved others in ruin. Esther read the 
papers with a heart-sickness impossible to describe. At 
the end of a dreadful week she realised that her father 
was not only dead but dishonoured. A hundred thou- 
sand depositors were reviling him. 

Of course she had friends who stood by her with a 
slightly frightened expression in their eyes, which 
Esther was at no loss to interpret. All these good 
people were trying to readjust a point of view: always 


THE PALADIN 


S 


a delicate, and in this case a somewhat harrowing, 
achievement. Esther, as the penniless daughter of a 
splendid imposter, seemed in her turn to have imposed 
upon everybody who knew her. No one put the com- 
mon thought into common words till Esther said to 
Harry Rye : “ They look at me as if I ought to have 
chosen another father.” 

To this the young man replied promptly, “ The 
beasts ! ” 

“ I am the same,” continued Esther vehemently. 
“ I’ve not altered, but they have changed — every one 
of them.” 

Rye was in the diplomatic service, and prided him- 
self upon the possession of tact. How could he tell 
this poor little dear that she had changed enormously. 
An appalling catastrophe had transmuted her from 
clay into marble. And he had admired in her the soft 
qualities, ingenuous faith in others, a sweet disposition, 
generosity, and kindliness. She had been adorable. 
Really, it was incredible that she should not know that 
she, not her friends, had changed. 

For some years Rye had told himself that Esther 
would make him an admirable little wife, provided al- 
ways that her dot was what the world said it ought to 
be, although he, for his part, would be willing to take 
her without a sou. That, however, would be unfair on 
her. He had only seven hundred a year. Esther spent 
at least as much upon her clothes, probably more. 
Esther, dowdily dressed, counting sixpences and con- 
sidering the expediency of rehashing the mutton was 
quite inconceivable. 


4 


THE PALADIN 


It is only fair to Rye to add that from the time 
he had left Eton the necessity of seeking a mate in the 
habitations of the very rich had been rubbed like oint- 
ment into his plastic and receptive mind. Lady Ma- 
tilda Rye, his mother, was too clever and charming a 
person to uphold marriages of convenience, or to wor- 
ship in public the Golden Calf ; and everybody, of 
course, knew that she had married for love, made a 
romantic affair of it, a runaway match with a blue-eyed 
Guardsman! And everybody knew, also, that she had 
bobbed up, serenely unwrinkled, after fifteen years of 
storm and stress with her poor dear Reginald, who died 
miserably of that almost universal disease, intemper- 
ance in all things. Lady Matilda and her two children 
settled down in Pont Street. Three months before the 
death of Mr. Yorke, the elder of these children, Doro- 
thea — so named because the gift came from heaven just 
when the blue-eyed Guardsman was beginning to slide 
rapidly in the opposite direction — had married George 
Treherne, the head of the famous shipbuilding firm, 
and at the marriage ceremony, which was honoured by 
the presence of royalty, Lady Matilda had beamed 
upon Esther in green gooseberry chiffon, a bridesmaid 
obviously destined to become in her turn a lovely and 
happy bride. Dear Harry might have gone a-courting 
in Surbiton, or at the stage door of the Jollity Thea- 
tre, or in some obscure country parsonage. Thanks to 
Lady Matilda’s teaching, never didactic, never obtru- 
sive, her boy had grasped the great truth that sweet, 
rich, charming girls may be found in dozens upon the 
wrong side of Hyde Park. 


THE PALADIN 


5 


The suspension of payments at Yorke’s Bank in Fleet 
Street nearly reduced Lady Matilda to a condition of 
collapse. She sent for Harry and implored him to do 
nothing rash. Harry came away from a memorable 
interview (Lady Matilda was in bed) acutely sensible 
that he was “awfully sorry” for the little Mater, 
“ awfully sorry” for Esther, and “ awfully sorry ” for 
himself. To a friend at the Foreign Office he muttered 
gloomily that this was a hard world. The friend, who 
sometimes asked indiscreet questions, said abruptly: 

“What are you going to do, Harry?” and to this 
Harry replied that he was damned if he knew, but that 
he could be counted on to do the real right thing. 

“ This is rather a hard case,” said his friend thought- 
fully. “ How are you going to do the real right thing 
by your mother and by Miss Yorke? ” 

“ I wish you wouldn’t mention names,” said Harry 
fretfully. 

To another friend he complained that the Fates were 
not providing a square deal. The young fellow be- 
longed to that gallant company of British youths who 
believe that the world owes them something. Harry 
had always been modest, and, under somewhat cruel 
circumstances, cheery and optimistic. He admitted 
candidly that the marriage, late in life, of his uncle, 
Lord Camber, and the subsequent appearance of twin 
sons, had been “ a nasty jar.” It is true that his uncle 
continued his allowance, but Harry felt vaguely that he 
was one of the unlucky brigade. Camber Castle and 
forty thousand a year would have suited him down to 
the ground, and — if he said it himself — the world would 


6 


THE PALADIN 


have been a cheerier place if — well, if those confounded 
twins had not knocked him out. 

In presenting our paladin as he was, and allowing 
him to express himself in his own words, the risk, not 
a light one, is run of raising a prejudice against him 
in the minds of the thoughtful and serious. His own 
medical attendant, Sir Bedford Slufter, who (before 
knighthood was conferred upon him) had treated in 
him to a successful issue whooping-cough, mumps, 
chicken-pox, and German measles, may be quoted as 
affirming that Harry was a capital fellow, a good 
sportsman, an affectionate son and brother, a sound 
cricketer, and an Imperialist. In a popular magazine 
photographs of Harry at the interesting ages of three, 
seven, eleven, seventeen, and twenty-four had been re- 
produced with the significant words beneath: One of 
the best . At seven we see him in a white sailor suit, 
but, oddly enough, grasping a stick by the wrong end ! 
Why the wrong end? Dare we affirm that coming 
events were casting shadows before? At eleven he ex- 
hibits proudly his first gun, a single-barrelled weapon 
of small bore. What a handsome curly-headed young- 
ster it is ! And he looks the camera straight in the 
face. We behold him at seventeen in flannels, a mem- 
ber of the Eton XI. and, obviously, a tremendous swell. 
The large central picture (taken free of charge and 
copyrighted by an eminent firm in Baker Street) rep- 
resents him as one of the Gentlemen of England after 
a glorious victory over the Players. 

To Harry Rye Esther turned in her trouble. What 
she thought of him may be indicated — no more. Esther, 


THE PALADIN 


7 


when a small girl, had seen Harry make a century at 
Lord’s in the Eton and Harrow match. After this fine 
performance he took Esther for a stroll, and treated 
her to strawberry ice. She said that she preferred 
vanilla, but Harry was positive that strawberry ice, 
made from real strawberries, was the better. Esther 
accepted this statement as gospel, regarding young 
Rye as a sort of Gamaliel in flannels. She adored him, 
and he knew it. 

Afterwards she came to occupy a definite place in 
his present and future. Esther, so to speak, was al- 
ways there. He could think of her comfortably as his 
for the asking. One of these days they were going to 
be as happy as larks. Part of the charm — and even 
Esther would have admitted this — bloomed in the fact 
that they were not engaged. Harry was twenty-six 
and Esther twenty. Lady Matilda and innumerable 
friends smiled and used the word “ idyll.” The affair, 
in their eyes, was so appropriate, so obviously fash- 
ioned in heaven, so “ deevy ” — a word coined in those 
days, and now regrettably become obsolete. 

Harry came to Palace Gardens, and sat beside the 
stricken girl, holding her hand. In a garden of roses 
by Bendemeer’s stream he would have taken Esther into 
his arms and kissed the tears from her eyes. In a huge 
drawing-room, upholstered in primrose satin, such ar- 
dour might be stigmatised as unseasonable and exuber- 
ant. Harry held her hand, and from time to time 
gently pressed it. 

Not many words passed at this first interview, which 
took place the day after the banker’s death, and before 


8 


THE PALADIN 


the full extent of the catastrophe was realised. Harry 
knew that a smash was impending, but his optimistic 
temperament jumped to the conviction that there must 
be pickings. The primrose satin upholstery fortified 
this belief. Esther surely was provided for — decently. 
Twenty thousand pounds at the very least. That 
meant economy. He would have to stick to his profes- 
sion. Esther was just the sort of girl to appreciate 
the man who worked for her. Accordingly, when Esther 
whispered, 44 I suppose you know the bank is shut 
up ? ” he replied reassuringly : 44 Money is not every- 

thing; we shall pull through, we shall pull through.” 

The 44 we ” and the repetition comforted poor Esther. 
She edged nearer to the cricketer and the Imperialist, 
but he did nothing rash. Esther told herself that 
Harry was thinking of the dead man upstairs. Harry 
told himself that he was doing the right thing, and that 
the Mater, God bless her! would applaud his self-con- 
trol and consideration. Don’t imagine for an instant 
that he was invertebrate or cold-blooded. When Esther 
edged close to him, the desire to do something rash 
became almost overmastering. For a fraction of a sec- 
ond he could hear himself saying : 44 My own girl, if 

I loved you when you were happy and prosperous, don’t 
you know that I love you now ten times as much? ” 
That is what he would have said, had not the little 
Mater been lying in bed and dabbing a fevered brow 
with eau de Cologne and water. 

George Treherne, with whom Harry dined that same 
evening, talked mysteriously of defalcations, trust 
money misapplied, and so forth. Harry rather despised 


THE PALADIN 


9 


George, both as man and brother-in-law, but as a finan- 
cier he was admittedly sound. George shook his long 
head when Harry muttered something about pickings. 

44 It’s going to be worse than we thought. Will you 
have another glass of port wine? ” 

44 Thanks,” said Harry. As he filled his glass, he 
added: 44 Of course Esther has been provided for? 99 

Dorothea had gone upstairs, leaving the men 
alone. 

44 What do you mean ? 99 George replied. 44 1 don’t 
suppose Yorke made a settlement on her and his will, 
I’m told, is ten years old. If that is the case, Esther 
probably has been left a large fortune which no longer 
exists. Old Sol told me this afternoon that the house 
in Palace Gardens and everything in it was mortgaged 
a few months ago.” 

44 Who the deuce is Old Sol? ” 

44 The moneylender. It’s his business to know these 
little things. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if the girl 
had nothing.” 

44 There must be — er — something.” 

44 No 4 must ’ about it. Shall we join Dorothea? ” 

Dorothea was in the hall lined with Cipolino marble 
with panels of blue sodolite from Canada and a mo- 
saic ceiling. The source of light was invisible; a soft 
glow suffused things and persons with a faint rose- 
coloured tone. In such a room pessimism is impossible. 
Harry smoked one of Treherne’s best and biggest 
cigars and drank a glass of 1808 brandy. Dorothea 
stared at him as if trying to pierce an exterior of well- 
bred impassivity. For the moment Harry puzzled her. 


10 


THE PALADIN 


She divined his distress, but could not measure it. He 
smoked imperturbably and enjoyed his cigar. He 
sipped the old brandy. Dorothea had the strange and 
reprehensible conviction that this indicated heartless- 
ness. Had Harry tossed off three glasses of brandy in 
swift succession she would have felt more sorry for 
him. Presently George went to his own room. 

“Business?” said Harry, with uplifted brows. 

“ Business,” replied his sister coldly. 

“ He knew that I wanted to talk to you.” 

“ He would have gone anyway.” 

Harry said nothing. He had acquired the invalu- 
able habit of shunting disagreeable reflections and con- 
clusions. He was awfully fond of Doll, and it was 
quite intolerable to think that she had made a mess of 
her marriage. She must have known what George was 
like before she married him: a good, steady, plodding 
fellow, with a heart of solid gold, not to mention a 
dessert service. But Doll had come back from her 
honeymoon looking as blue as the sodolite from Can- 
ada ; and had settled down in Park Lane with an amaz- 
ing indifference to her position, which provoked from 
Lady Matilda the word “ ungrateful.” 

“Have you seen Esther?” said Dorothea. 

“ Of course. I rushed off there the moment I left 
the office.” 

A pause followed. Then Dorothea said nervously: 

“ Are you very fond of her? ” 

“ Good Lord ! What a question ! ” 

“ Do you care for her more than you care for any- 
body else in the whole world? ” 


THE PALADIN 


11 


“ If you put it that way, of course I do. Why, 
Doll, what’s up? ” 

He saw that her cheeks were red and her eyes spar- 
kling. How pretty she was ! All the Ryes were good- 
looking — except those confounded twins, who had taken 
after their confounded mother. 

“ If you care for her,” said Dorothea vehemently, 
“this is the opportunity of your life. It’s not easy 
for a woman to know whether she is wanted for her- 
self, or for her beauty, or her money, or her position, 
but you can prove to Esther that you want her. Are 
you going to do it? I suppose mother has been at 
you ? ” 

“ We are in a very complicated position.” 

“ What— humbug! ” 

“ Really, Doll, if I hadn’t seen you drink water at 
dinner, I should say that the Dagonet had been too 
much for you. Are you mad? ” 

“ I am, at last, hopelessly and incurably sane.” 

“ I don’t pretend to understand women. The more 
they have, the more they seem to want. At any rate, 
out of regard for the Mater, to whom you’ll admit I 
owe something, and in common decency — Mr. Yorke 
won’t be buried till the day after to-morrow — I’m going 
to mark time.” 

“ Poor Esther!” 

“ Suppose she has nothing. George says it’s quite 
possible. Do you think she could be happy on seven 
hundred a year ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You are quite cracked.” 


THE PALADIN 


12 


Dorothea made the last attempt. 

“ If you spoke to Uncle Camber, he might — I believe 
he would — increase your allowance.” 

Harry stiffened immediately. 

44 When I marry I’m not going to pass round the 
hat. I told Esther that money was not everything, and 
it isn’t to me,” he added with slight emphasis. 64 One 
can’t talk about such things ; you know I could have 
had that little millionairess from Michigan; but first 
and last I’ve been faithful to Esther. I’m thinking of 
her, not of myself.” 

Dorothea yawned and opened a book. It was not 
polite, but it inspired the reflection in Harry’s mind 
that whenever a woman begins by being grossly unfair 
to a fellow, she generally ends by being rude into the 
bargain. Shortly afterwards the young man took his 
leave and returned to Pont Street, walking home, as the 
night was fine. He strolled down Park Lane, behold- 
ing the motives which inspired marking time by the 
light of the moon, shall we say, rather than the sun. 
Had he, after all, done the real right thing? Doro- 
thea indicated a high adventure, a romantic opportu- 
nity. Long ago, upon the occasion of his famous cen- 
tury against Harrow, made at a moment when experts 
in the Pavilion were beginning to fear that a 44 rot ” 
was setting in, one of the many gentlemen who write 
with ease rather than elegance upon British pastimes 
had described him as 44 lion-hearted.” Our Harry had 
tried to live up to this transcendent adjective. And, 
afterwards, in greater matches, when he had valiantly 
faced the most deadly bowlers in the kingdom, other 


THE PALADIN 


13 


epithets had been showered upon his embayed head* 
He was a 44 tryer,” he was 44 the famous Old Etonian,” 
he was 44 fearless ” — 44 dauntless ” — 44 a thruster ! ” In 
a rosy-hued paper, where some licence is allowed, he 
was acclaimed enthusiastically as possessing — let us 
turn the monstrous monosyllable into Latin — viscera ! 
Many cricketers, apparently, lack these organs. Would 
Bertrand du Guesclin have turned his broad back upon 
a dowerless Tiphaine? 

Our paladin felt uncomfortably warm when he put 
these questions to himself. And then, very insidiously, 
Dorothea’s subtle suggestion of an increased allowance 
from his uncle percolated to the core of his being. 

Perhaps George Treherne would do something! 


CHAPTER II 

THE PALADIN’S LITTLE MATER 
, f 

Lady Matilda glanced with satisfaction at her pretty 
drawing-room in Pont Street. To this smiling, good- 
natured, self-complacent lady possession was not nine- 
tenths of the law, but the law itself and all the prophets. 
She loved everything that belonged to her; and she 
beheld her possessions (we include the children) magni- 
fied and embellished beyond compare. Many of the ob- 
jects upon which her eye lingered with special affec- 
tion had been bought, at a price considerably below 
their value, in country curiosity shops and cottages. 
Lady Matilda invariably offered a sum less than that 
asked, and, as invariably, she indicated blemishes. But 
the articles paid for, blemishes vanished. Her treasures 
became perfect specimens because they belonged to her. 
Very seldom indeed did she admire what belonged to 
others. Even the snuff-boxes at Hertford House left 
her perfectly calm, although she would rave for a quar- 
ter of an hour over a “ ducky ” little Lowestoft teapot 
which 66 1 got, my dear, for a song from a funny old 
woman in Somerset; it came to her from her grand- 
mother.” 

The world liked Lady Matilda because she was 
plucky and cheery. Only Lord Camber knew how she 
managed to pay her bills, but paid they were on the 
first of every month. Her servants, four in number, 
14 


THE PALADIN 


15 


did the work of six, not because they received high 
wages, but because, instead, the kind word in season 
was never lacking. Lady Matilda kept very careful 
accounts, but it is doubtful whether she computed the 
value of the kind word. 

She had been the best or the worst of mothers, ac- 
cording to your point of view. The least we can do is 
to believe that she acted according to her lights. No 
one questioned her devotion. 

When it became certain that Esther Yorke was dow- 
erless, Lady Matilda sought and found solace in the 
contemplation of her furniture, bought before Chippen- 
dale and Sheraton became the rage. Each inanimate 
object represented the triumph of good over evil, ac- 
cepting as 64 good,” without any perplexing reference 
to the New Testament, Lady Matilda’s own comfort- 
able code of ethics. The Chippendale cabinet, for in- 
stance, had been bought at a moment when poor dear 
Reginald was obliged to give up hunting owing to a 
weak heart — a condition caused by excessive smoking 
of cigarettes. The money which hunting represented 
was spent by Captain Rye upon himself ; but in recog- 
nition of his wife’s devotion as nurse he allowed her to 
buy the cabinet. 

Staring at the cabinet, and faintly smiling, Lady 
Matilda came to a decision. It was alien to her prin- 
ciples to hit anyone who happened to be down. When 
down herself, people had been kind to her. Neverthe- 
less it would be mistaken kindness to allow Esther to 
linger any longer in a fool’s paradise. She was forti- 
fied in this decision by the strange and unfilial conduct 


16 


THE PALADIN 


of her Harry, who, for the first time in his life, was 
withholding his confidence. When she mentioned this 
to Dorothea, the daughter said coldly: 

44 1 may be to blame. I advised him to marry Esther, $ 
money or no money ! ” 

44 What!” 

44 She is a girl in ten thousand.” 

44 Would George support them? ” 

44 If I asked him, George might do something ; so 
might Uncle.” 

44 1 thought my daughter had some pride.” 

44 Disillusion yourself, mother. I hav’n’t a scrap left. 
Let me add this for your comfort: I don’t think Harry 
will take my advice. He thinks me mad.” 

44 So do I,” said Lady Matilda, with much asperity 
for so sweet-tempered a woman. 

Of course she knew in her heart that Harry was 
quite likely to take any advice that might happen to 
chime with his inclinations, which at the present moment 
must be ringing a wedding peal. And if, as was more 
than probable, Dorothea had indicated the heroic op- 
portunity, the high adventure, Harry might do some- 
thing rash, because he was Reginald Rye’s son, with his 
father’s seductive blue eyes and, latent within him, that 
father’s recklessness and contempt of consequences. 
Years of patient training might be obliterated in one 
ill-considered moment. 

Instinct told her that moment was at hand. Thanks 
to her, the first and second and third interviews between 
the young people had produced nothing more fervent 
than protestations of sympathy and friendship. Harry 


THE PALADIN 


17 


was marking time. But now the worst was known. 
Esther had nothing but her frocks and her trinkets. 
Harry could mark time no longer, and that odious 
friend of his in the Foreign Office was a sentimentalist, 
a love-and-a-cottage simpleton l 

Lady Matilda took a last look at the cabinet, and 
went upstairs. She arrayed herself carefully in black 
and lavender, and, on her way to Palace Gardens, 
stopped at a florist’s to buy a large bunch of Parma 
violets. These, with an affectionate kiss, she presented 
to Esther, who had wit enough to scent the Danaan 
nature of the gift. 

44 1 suppose Harry has told you everything? ” began 
Esther. 

44 Yes,” said Lady Matilda with bland assurance. If 
Harry had deliberately hidden anything of importance, 
this full-throated 44 yes ” might bring it to light. 

44 1 hav’n’t a halfpenny,” said Esther. 44 To be ac- 
curate,” she added, 44 there is a small sum which will 
keep me alive till I get work.” 

44 Work? What work, dear? ” 

44 I’m thinking of the stage. Why not? ” 

The interrogation had an uplifting note of defiance. 
Some of Esther’s friends had answered the question in 
a spirit of indignation and finality. Esther, it was 
pointed out, had no affiliations with the stage; she had 
exhibited no special aptitudes for such a profession: 
the competition was heart-breaking and everlasting ; and 
the associations with persons regarded, until quite 
lately, as rogues and vagabonds must be stigmatised 
as lowering and undesirable. One friend, Mrs. Rock- 


18 


THE PALADIN 


ingham Trigg, had offered Esther the situation of 
companion to an aged and infirm aunt, who lived in 
Eaton Place, and was willing to pay thirty pounds a 
year, with board and lodging, to an amiable, ladylike 
young person. Esther replied that Eaton Place was 
too far from the Thames. When her astonished visitor 
demanded an interpretation, Esther laughed, pleas- 
antly enough, and said: “ You see, I could never drown 
myself in cold blood. The walk from Eaton Place to 
Westminster Bridge would take all the starch out of 
me.” The good Samaritan went away shaking her 
head. She remarked to her aunt: “Not even Provi- 
dence can help those who refuse to help themselves ! ” 
A stickler for the powers plenipotentiary of the Creator 
might have taken exception to this observation, but we 
know what the good, kind soul meant : and she liked her 
little aphorism so well that she repeated it to every- 
one of her acquaintance. 

Lady Matilda paused for an instant before speak- 
ing. Then she said gently: 

“ Don’t think me impertinent, but surely you have 
some relations ? ” 

Esther shook her head. 

“ My father’s people are furious with him; I couldn’t 
stand their pity or their patronage.” 

“ And your mother’s people, dear ? ” 

“ My mother’s people? I suppose my mother had 
people. Father never spoke of her or them.” 

“ How very, very odd ! ” 

“ So, you see, I have nobody to consider but myself. 
And I might do well on the stage, don’t you think so ? ” 


THE PALADIN 19 

“ You are pretty, clever, and you have a delightful 
voice.” 

“ I know Henry FitzRoy, the actor-manager.” 

Lady Matilda nodded. 

“ I’m sure he’ll help. Don’t forget to mention my 
name. I introduced him to the dear Prince, and he was 
so grateful.” 

“ Then you really think well of my little plan ? ” 

Lady Matilda blinked. Then she took Esther’s hand 
in hers and patted it maternally. Her manner was per- 
fection. 

“ I do — I do. If a girl can earn a living on the 
stage or anywhere else, let her do it, say I.” 

“ Harry is not of your opinion.” 

“ Oh! Does he suggest anything?” 

“ He says I must mark time.” 

An inaudible sigh of relief parted Lady Matilda’s 
lips. Perhaps, after all, she had done Harry an injus- 
tice. 

“ Knowing Harry,” she began softly, “ knowing the 
tenderness of his heart, and his temperament, so like 
his father’s, I was terrified lest he should propose some- 
thing rash.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

Lady Matilda permitted the shadow of a frown to flit 
across her placid forehead. Esther’s question displayed 
a certain lack of breeding and tact. Nothing is so 
exasperating as to be compelled to use a blunderbuss 
when you are master of a rapier. 

“ He is very chivalrous, my dear.” 

“Is he?” Esther considered this seriously. 


w 


THE PALADIN 


44 You must know what he is. He has the nice old- 
fashioned ideas about women.” 

44 He has never mentioned them to me.” 

44 How very odd ! Oh, yes, Harry believes that women 
must be protected and cherished, treated as delicate 
porcelain, and — er ■” 

44 Kept under lock and key.” 

“ Exactly.” 

44 Is that being chivalrous ? ” 

Again Lady Matilda frowned. Esther was making 
things difficult to one who prided herself upon making 
things easy. However, she answered mildly : 44 I’m not 
very good at expressing myself, but you know what I 
mean.” 

44 1 think I know what you mean,” said Esther, 44 but 
I should like to be sure. You have been terrified lest 
Harry should ask me to marry him.” 

44 My dear ! ” 

44 Lady Matilda, only the plainest speaking is possible 
between us. Harry, perhaps, is too chivalrous to ask 
me to share comparative poverty with him. Let us 
leave it at that, if it pleases you. But, if he had 
spoken, if he had been ” — she paused and brought out 
the word 44 rash ” with a derisive little smile — 44 1 should 
have said 4 No.’ If I had wanted his love more than 
anything else in the world, I should have said 4 No.’ 
Have I made myself plain? ” 

44 You are a girl of spirit.” 

44 Don’t flatter me ! I’m a girl of temperament — 
the creature of impulse. I will be absolutely frank 
with you. There was one moment, only one, when I 


THE PALADIN 


21 

might have taken Harry if he had asked me. That 
was the first day, when I did not know how bad things 
were. Will you promise me that you will never let 
Harry know this ? ” 

“ My poor child, of course.” 

“ I’m not so poor as you imagine. I mean to make 
my way. I am not afraid of work, but I should resent 
being kept under lock and key.” 

“We shall all stand by you, dear.” 

“No; I shall drop out. Pity hurts horribly. And 
my great weakness is that I’m afraid of pain. 1 
hardly know what pain is. I have never been uncom- 
fortable; I have never been lectured, or slighted. Bad 
times are coming, but I’m not afraid — yet.” 

Lady Matilda kissed her with genuine affection. 

“ Of all the girls I have known,” she said regretfully, 
“ you are the nicest and the pluckiest.” 

“Plucky?” said Esther, with a twist of her lip. 
“ Well, that remains to be seen.” 

When Lady Matilda went away, Esther returned to 
her sitting-room, once the schoolroom, and the only 
room in the vast mansion which reflected personality. 
In a corner stood a doll’s house gorgeously furnished. 
Esther had played with dolls till she was fourteen, 
partly because she had an imagination, partly because 
she was loyal to things and persons who were a source 
of entertainment to her. The dolls lay in state in a 
mahogany tallboy, and often Esther would open the 
drawers and ask her old favourites how they fared. 
She was whimsically sensible that she had not treated 
some of them with forbearance. She had smacked an 


THE PALADIN 


ear off a beautiful creature merely because she simpered 
and looked silly. Another sparkler had been spanked, 
after trial by jury, because it was certain that she 
scorned the Golly wog. A lovely lady from Paris wore 
sackcloth. Her magnificent trousseau had been given 
to an English doll who was ugly and, supposedly, vir- 
tuous. No greater punishment can be inflicted upon a 
gay Parisienne. 

Take away the doll’s house and the mahogany tall- 
boy, and the room became, perhaps, obtrusively pretty. 
Esther admitted that she placed too high a value upon 
what pleased the eye. She adored flowers, and delicate 
fabrics, softly tinted porcelain, and books bound in 
white vellum, fancifully tooled. Near the fireplace 
a divan was piled high with some eiderdown cush- 
ions. 

Upon this divan Esther reclined, thinking of Lady 
Matilda, of Harry, and of Dorothea. Dorothea had 
been a friend. Her marriage justified the use of the 
past tense. Esther knew George, and liked him, but 
he was a man without enthusiasm, cold as a fish, unlov- 
able. Why had Dorothea married him? To sip coffee 
in a hall lined with blue sodolite? To wear bigger dia- 
monds than other women? To make a splash? To 
reply affirmatively to any of those questions exhibited 
ignorance of Dorothea. She was a Gallio in regard to 
material things. Perhaps she had fled from her mother. 
Esther recalled an Eastern proverb : “ As the sands of 
the desert are to the weary traveller, so is overmuch 
speech to him who loveth silence.” George had the gift 
of silence. He was like one of the strong, dumb men 


THE PALADIN 


in Henry Seton Merriman’s novels. To his silence the 
distracted Dorothea may have sped as to an oasis. 

When the engagement was announced, Esther looked 
forward to heart to heart talks. She admired Doro- 
thea enormously. Lady Matilda and Harry always 
spoke of her in superlatives. But for that matter, 
everybody knew that mother and son were a mutual 
admiration company with large assets and irreducible 
liabilities. Lady Matilda never looked so charming as 
when she was exhibiting photographs of her children 
to the stranger within her gates. “ This is my boy,” 
she would say, “ the dearest fellow. I think you know 
my girl. Yes, as you say, very distinguished, and the 
most devoted daughter. What those darling children 
have been to me ! ” 

Nothing is so tiresome as a mystery, so we will hasten 
to explain why there were no heart to heart talks be- 
tween Dorothea and Esther. Dorothea did appreciate 
silence; and she found out before she was ten years old 
that her mother, constitutionally and temperamentally, 
was unable to keep a secret. Harry, also, chattered 
indiscreetly. Accordingly, early in life, Dorothea 
learned to hold her tongue. Because of this, friends 
confided in her, notably Esther, and carried away by the 
beatitude of giving confidence, few paused to observe 
that they were receiving nothing in return. Then Doro- 
thea fell in love with a man who was flirting with her. 
He married somebody else; Dorothea, out of pique, 
said “ Yes ” to the faithful George, who happened to 
propose upon the evening of the day when the engage- 
ment of the other man was announced. Because she 


24 


THE PALADIN 


could not marry the man she wanted, she took the man 
who wanted her. 

Esther, ingenuous and guileless, though not igno- 
rant, could not understand what had happened. Doro- 
thea’s reserve, so solid and indestructible, made Esther’s 
outpourings appear thin and flimsy. 66 She thinks me 
a gusher,” Esther muttered to herself. And if she had 
known it, Dorothea was dying to speak with entire 
frankness — and couldn’t! 

Habit had made her tongue-tied. 

Alone in her room, Esther underwent a reaction. 
She had confronted Lady Matilda with a derisive smile, 
but she saw herself through tears — tears which she 
despised, and yet recognised as the inevitable successor 
of smiles. She believed in the rhythm of life. She had 
had her good times, and the bad times were at hand — 
lean years of struggle and renunciation. 

Three cups of tea shed a rosier light upon the 
future. Her eyes were clear and bright when the sol- 
emn butler, already under notice to leave, announced 
that Mr. Rye was in the drawing-room. Esther had 
not seen Harry for three days, but she had written to 
announce her definite intention of going on the stage. 

She arranged her hair, which had a tinge of red in it, 
before she went downstairs. Examining herself in the 
glass, she could not deny that she was nice-looking, al- 
though at times her face exasperated her, for she hap- 
pened to be devoid of vanity. Her complexion, pale 
but clear, enhanced the value of her big hazel eyes and 
red mouth. She found great fault with her mouth. It 
had an annoying droop to it. As a child she could re- 


THE PALADIN 


25 


member overhearing whispers: “What a sad little 
darling ! 55 But she was not sad, and never had been 
sad. Fortunately her nose had a tiny tilt to it. “ My 
nose despises my mouth , 55 Esther would say. Certainly 
the nose indicated a saucy defiance. The brow was quite 
charming, low and wide, and the hair waved from it 
naturally. Obstinacy perched itself upon her chin. 
Judging by appearances you would declare: “ Here is 
a creature of impulse, who has never come in contact 
with anything sordid and mean; she has never enter- 
tained an unbeautiful thought; she has capacity for 
enjoyment, but the delicacy of the nostril indicates 
equal sensibility to pain . 55 Men agreed that she pos- 
sessed a sense of humour, and could see a joke against 
herself. Perhaps the greatest charm of the face was 
its immaturity and youthfulness. It might become 
really beautiful; it might, as easily, degenerate into 
chocolate-box prettiness. 

Harry, usually of a sanguine complexion, looked 
rather pallid. Our preiu v chevalier had kept vigils, as 
befitted one about to embark upon a notable enterprise, 
exacting sacrifice and self-denial. Esther shook hands. 

“ I got your letter , 55 said Harry. 

She divined that he disapproved of the stage. 

“ Letters are not like foolish young women, they sel- 
dom go astray . 55 

This was flippant; and Harry frowned. After much 
thought and consultation with his friends, he had nerved 
himself for the great plunge. Poised for the leap, it 
was intolerable that Esther should make silly remarks. 

“ You mean to become an actress? 55 


26 


THE PALADIN 


“ I mean to earn my living.” 

“ If you can.” 

“ If I can.” 

“ Suppose you can’t? ” 

66 It’s my duty to try.” 

“ And it’s my duty to prevent you. I see that clearly. 
I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I want to do the right 
thing, but it’s not always certain just what the right 
thing is.” 

So speaking, he possessed himself of her hand. Esther 
knew what was coming, and rejoiced. Harry was about 
to justify her feeling for him by doing something rash. 
The blood flew to her cheeks. 

“ I’m going to look after you,” he whispered, and 
then he kissed her hand. Not an ardent wooing, accord- 
ing to the standard set by Romeo, but one must admit 
that our Harry was handicapped. Conscious of the 
censure of a devoted mother, he presented himself as a 
burnt offering upon the altar of duty. As a spectacle 
he would have been supremely ridiculous had he not 
loved Esther. This love, in its essence, was the highest 
emotion of which he was capable. For the moment it 
transmuted a pleasure-seeking egotist into something 
approximating to a man. 

“ Thank you,” said Esther. 

Her hand trembled. Instantly, Harry kissed her, 
holding her to him, and triumphant. Duty slipped out 
of sight. He was astounded to think that he had re- 
strained himself so long. And her seemingly uncon- 
ditional surrender set him ablaze: balsam poured upon 
the flames! She loved him! Her heart beat beneath 


THE PALADIN 


rt 

his! The joy that cannot speak thrilled upon her 
sweet lips. So Cophetua .kissed his beggar-maid, and 
forgot — let us hope — that he was a king. 

When he released her, she sank panting upon the 
primrose satin ottoman. She panted like a hunted 
animal too hardly pressed. Harry knelt down and laid 
his curly head in her lap. Her hands fell upon it, but 
her eyes were upturned. Then, in her soft voice, she 
said slowly : “ Dear Harry, I love you, and you love 

me, but I cannot marry you, or allow you to take care 
of me.” 

When he looked up confounded, she smiled, and, 
bending her own head, kissed him between the eyes. 

“ 1 shall marry you at once,” he said, with finality. 

Esther shook her head. 

“ You have asked me; that is enough.” 

“ It’s not enough for me,” he protested. 

“ You have given me back my self-respect. Oh, 
Harry, I was miserable because you didn’t ask me. 
Now it’s all right. I can stand anything.” 

“ We must be married at once,” he repeated. 

“ In defiance of your mother?” 

“I’d have spoken before if it hadn’t been for her. 
The little Mater will come round, you’ll see.” 

“ She did come round this afternoon,” said Esther. 

“ She didn’t make herself — er — nasty? ” 

“ She couldn’t.” 

“ You refuse to marry me because of something she 
said? ” 

“No; I refuse to marry you because I won’t be a 
burden on the man I love.” 


28 


THE PALADIN 


“ My own girl ! What nonsense you talk.” 

“ Sense or nonsense, I say what I mean.” 

“You are really serious?” 

“ To my inmost core.” 

A warm discussion followed, unnecessary to record. 
Harry became platitudinous and prosy, and finally rude. 
Esther repressed her temper (she had one), and used 
soft answers. The preux chevalier realised that he was 
being flouted and set at nought. He had come hither 
prepared to play the paladin, and to ride away with 
his true love behind him. And lo ! his true love re- 
versed their parts. She, single-handed, proposed to 
engage in a fight a outrance against poverty. Can we 
blame him that he forgot his manners? 

Next day Esther happened to call upon Dorothea. 
Coming out of the Park she saw Dorothea step from 
her carriage and enter the house. The butler, however, 
said “ Not at home.” No doubt Esther should have in- 
sisted. She would have done so a fortnight before, re- 
fusing to believe that a friend was not welcome in or 
out of season. Now she went away, not exactly ag- 
grieved, but with the feeling that the Fates were on the 
side of Mrs. Grundy. Dorothea, who had a splitting 
headache, never heard of this call. Esther, therefore, 
received no explanatory note. She told herself that 
Dorothea meant to drop her. 

Meanwhile Harry was persecuting her chivalrously. 
We may take his word for it that he was unhappy; 
and he made Esther unhappy. He bought an engage- 
ment ring which she refused to accept. He swore by 
the gods that he would hurl it into the Serpentine, but 


THE PALADIN 


29 


he didn’t. He recited, interminably, arguments against 
gently nurtured maidens leaving their bowers. Bayard 
or Gaston de Foix may have so talked to their sisters. 
Esther laughed, not very joyously, and assured the 
preux chevalier that he was mediaeval, or at least early 
Victorian. Finally, he delivered an ultimatum: “If 
she went on the stage, all was over.” 

That evening she wrote to Henry FitzRoy and asked 
him for five minutes of his valuable time. 


CHAPTER III 


WE MOVE AMONGST MUMMERS 

Henry FitzRoy was beloved by half the women in Eng- 
land. Indeed, enthusiastic young ladies constituted 
an order, the independent order of the K. O. H. The 
capitals stood for “ Keen on Henry,” or “ Keen Order 
of Henryites.” Members wore a pretty badge with the 
mystic letters intertwined in a cipher encircled by the 
motto One and Only, executed in blue and white en- 
amel. Lest respectable, old-fashioned folk should be 
unduly shocked, let us hasten to add that these devoted 
maidens worshipped at a distance. The glamour of 
the footlights lay between them and their god. The 
existence of the order is recorded merely to indicate 
a personality and to give the lie direct to those who 
assert that integrity, altruism, and untarnished honour 
are moribund in this kingdom. Henry inspired ardours 
in Upper Tooting and even in Sauchiehall Street be- 
cause he was good and unselfish and noble, always the 
perfect gentleman. His manners were as carefully 
creased as his trousers; his language as discreetly se- 
lected as his cravats. When he left the stage, which 
was seldom, maiden aunts nudged each other and whis- 
pered, “ That is what I call a — Man ! ” 

Esther saw him between the third and fourth acts 
of a play which had been running for nearly a year. 
She went to the theatre alone, going first to the box 
30 


THE PALADIN 


31 


office and thence to the stage door, where the janitor 
stared curiously at her black clothes and white face. 

She was ushered into a comfortably furnished sit- 
ting-room. The curtains between it and a dressing- 
room were not drawn, so Esther was able to see 
a brilliantly lighted table covered with the usual ar- 
ticles of make-up, and on the walls different costumes 
ready to the hand of the dresser. 

Esther sat down in the sitting-room, and the dresser, 
after a careful scrutiny, drew the curtains. Esther ex- 
amined the different portraits of FitzRoy, delicately 
framed and mounted. What a number of parts he had 
played! And how amazingly he preserved his own 
identity, never merged in that of his part! He re- 
mained the One and Only. In a drawing-room nobody 
had ever been known to mistake him for Jones or 
Robinson. Railway porters, who had not seen him 
on the stage, touched their hats to him, because, hav- 
ing access to the illustrated papers, they recognised 
at once his finely cut features and penetrating glance. 
Every schoolgirl knew that his teeth were white be- 
cause he used Bodol. 

He came in two minutes later, warm but slightly 
frigid in manner, although very polite. He regretted 
that he had kept Miss Yorke waiting, but he was now 
at her service for ten minutes. The emphasis on the 
numeral served to remind Esther that she had asked 
for five. 

“ If a man asks for five pounds do you give him 
ten ? ” she said. 

Without waiting for his answer, she explained her 


THE PALADIN 


32 

errand. FitzRoy listened, leaning his square chin upon 
his hand and giving careful attention to her voice 
and face. When she had finished he murmured: 

“ You have had no experience? ” 

“ Only as an amateur.” 

“ And you ask for my advice? ” 

She nodded, smiling nervously. FitzRoy began to 
speak in the monotone so effective on the stage, be- 
cause it indicates commonsense, proportion, justice, 
good breeding — qualities highly esteemed by the stalls 
and dress circle. He spoke as a bishop might speak 
at his club, not didactically, but with authority, con- 
veying the conviction of knowledge and experience 
suppressed. Even in moments of passion the critics 
were of opinion that Henry had “ something up his 
sleeve.” 

“You are young, keen, clever, and you say you 
must earn your living. Try to earn it anywhere ex- 
cept in a theatre.” 

“Oh, Mr. FitzRoy!” 

“ If I had a daughter I should say the same thing 
to her. Do you know that mine is the only profession 
out of which the leading men and women try to keep 
their own girls ? Isn’t that fact significant ? 99 

“ But the girls go on all the same.” 

“ True. Well, Miss Yorke, I can give you a 
line to Johnson, who will, perhaps, take you as a 
pupil. After a year or two with him come back to 
me.” 

“ But Mr. Johnson never appears in London? ” 

“Never! His pupils do. Then there is Miss Jagg, 


THE PALADIN 


S3 


the sister of Charles and Laura Jagg. She has a 
dramatic academy just round the corner. My card 
will do for Miranda. Choose — letter or card? Or shall 
we say both?” 

“ You are very kind.” 

“ On the contrary, I’m aiding and abetting a mis- 
demeanour. There ! Good-night and good luck ! ” 

She found herself at the stage door, with a breeze 
from the river cooling her hot cheeks. The night was 
fine, so she decided to walk home. How Harry would 
fume if he knew! And yet, sooner or later, she must 
leam to walk alone through London streets. She 
started, chin in air, looking neither to right nor left. 
Within a couple of minutes she had reached Picca- 
dilly Circus. 

So far her progress had been swift and free, because 
she had approached the great thoroughfare from side 
streets. Now she was constrained to move slowly and 
with caution. Crossing the Circus a policeman held up 
his hand. She and those about her stood still while 
carriages and cabs rolled swiftly by. Scores of times 
she had glanced from her father’s brougham and seen 
kaleidoscopically the variegated, patient crowd, the 
blur of colour and form which she knew to be the 
human tide arrested for a moment by the uplifted hand 
of the law, but soon to flow on, resistless and omnipo- 
tent, percolating everywhere, solid and fluid, abstract 
and concrete, good and evil. 

To-night she realised that she belonged to the crowd, 
was in it and of it. She seemed to have stepped from 
a hilltop to the plain, from the select few to the undis- 


34 


THE PALADIN 


tinguished many; and for the moment she lost the 
sense of identity. Beside her stood a girl about her 
own age, pretty, graceful, but unmistakably belonging 
to the class described by police-court reporters as 
“ unfortunate.” She eyed Esther with curiosity. Then 
she said pleasantly, “Nice night, isn’t it?” Esther 
blushed to the roots of her hair. The tone, the glance, 
implied equality. 

“ Yes, it’s very fine,” she stammered. The girl 
started, and beneath the paint Esther saw the blood 
flow swiftly to her chin and temples. 

“ I beg your pardon,” she said nervously. “ I 
d-didn’t know; I’m very sorry.” 

Esther touched the other’s arm. 

“ Don’t ! ” she said quickly. “ Why should you be 
sorry? Why shouldn’t you speak to me?” 

The policeman lowered his hand; the crowd swept 
on; Esther lost sight of her companion. 

She stood still for an instant, and perceived that a 
man was approaching her. She felt her knees tremble ; 
a lump formed itself in her throat. If this man spoke 
to her, she might faint, or scream, or do something 
incredibly silly. Her eyes met his appealingly, and 
yet he came on, like a sort of Juggernaut. 

“Are you ill? Can I help you? ” 

He raised his hat. 

“ If you would call a hansom,' w she faltered. 

As the hansom drew up he said, “ I am a doctor ; 
I thought you were going to faint.” 

“ I felt faint,” Esther answered, “ but I’m all right 
now. Will you kindly tell the man to drive me to 


THE PALADIN 


35 


Palace Gardens?” The doctor looked astounded, but 
obeyed. He lifted his hat for the second time as the 
hansom began to move, and Esther was left with a 
vivid impression of a thin, pale, clean-shaven face, keen 
blue eyes, and a broad, dominating forehead. She lay 
back against the cushions. 

Upon the following morning, at half-past ten, she 
called upon Miranda Jagg. Miranda — everybody 
called her Miranda — received her in a faded pink 
dressing-gown. She wore green carpet slippers and 
spectacles. Through these beamed a pair of bright, 
quizzical eyes. Esther presented the One and Only’s 
card. 

“Did Henry say anything about my terms?” 

“Not a word, Miss Jagg.” 

“ They vary. You’re a swell, eh? ” 

“ Nothing of the sort.” 

“ But you’ve money ” Her sharp eyes appraised 

every article of clothing. 

“ I’m nearly penniless. I’m the daughter of — of 
Mr. Douglas Yorke.” 

“ My dear, I never heard of him. I’m the most ig- 
norant woman in the world. I can act, and I can 
teach the right sort how to act. I never read any- 
thing but theatrical news.” 

“ I hope you’ll find me the right sort.” 

“ Haven’t said I’ll take you yet. I’m particular — 
always was. The grandchild of Charles James Bean 
has a right to be.” 

“You are Charles Bean’s grandchild?” 


36 


THE PALADIN 

44 Didn’t you know? And once I played Juliet. Ah 
— ha ! And my last part was the Nurse. I walked all 
round ’em ! I’m a better actress than my sister Laura, 
but she has kept her figure.” 

She winked her eye, and held out a pretty dimpled 
hand. 

44 Nothing left but that,” she added. 

44 I do hope you’ll take me.” 

44 Sit down,” said Miss Jagg trenchantly. Esther 
did so. 44 I’ll take you,” said this remarkable woman. 
44 You can sit down properly; I shan’t have to teach 
you that ; and you’ve a decent voice and you put your 
clothes on properly. But, Lord bless you! thousands 
can do that. Can’t sing or dance, eh? ” 

44 No.” 

44 Just as well. You might be tempted to go for 
musical comedy. Want to begin at once, eh?” 

46 Please.” 

44 You’re always in a hurry,” grumbled Miranda. 

44 And your terms, Miss Jagg? ” 

44 We’ll talk about that this day week. If you shape 

well Don’t worry about the cash part! If you 

mean biz that’ll be all right.” 

44 1 do mean biz,” Esther replied valiantly. 

44 Some of ’em will be here at eleven. You can 
watch us at work if you like. See if you can spot the 
promising ones. Have a cig? ” 

44 No, thanks,” said Esther politely. 

Miranda lighted a cigarette and began to talk volu- 
bly of past triumphs. This was her weakness. 

44 If you had seen me as Olivia But I shone 


THE PALADIN 


37 


brightest in Shakespeare. Portia, Beatrice, Kate the 
Shrew, Lady Macbeth, Ophelia — I’ve played ’em all, 
my dear. Don’t make any mistake, the lot you know 
can’t act as we did. Most of ’em ain’t fit to carry a 
flag in a pantomime. And think of our training! 
Lawsy! didn’t we work, too. I’ve rehearsed for ten 
hours at a stretch. Do you admire my brother Charles 
very much? ” 

She never stopped talking about herself and her 
illustrious family till her pupils had begun to arrive. 

Work — as the pupils called it — lasted for two hours. 
Miranda held Esther spellbound. Gestures, voice, ex- 
pression, were inimitable. The pupils being unable to 
mimic her, she mimicked them, but so delicately, with 
such irresistible drollery, that none took offence. One 
girl, older than the others, was praised and exalted as 
an example. Esther noticed her, because she had a 
beautiful face upon which suffering was writ large. 
Everybody addressed her as Miss Lovell, and not till 
afterwards did Esther discover that her Christian name 
was Sabrina. Thrice Miranda appealed directly to 
her: “ How does that strike you, Miss Lovell?” or, 
“Could you improve that pose?” Sabrina answered 
in an emotionless voice, but with real critical ability, 
and each time Miranda nodded, exclaiming: “Yes, 
yes, yes — you are quite right ! ” After two hours the 
others hurried off, but Sabrina remained to be intro- 
duced to Esther. Miranda said, “ Miss Yorke wants 
to become an actress. Do talk to her, and tell her 
about yourself. It’s a black-and-white sketch she’ll 
give you,” she added, turning to Esther and showing 


THE PALADIN 


a row of magnificent teeth in a broad genial smile. 
“ What did you think of my 4 star ’ class ? 99 

“ You frightened me more than you frightened them, 
Miss Jagg.” 

46 1 shall go easy with you, my dear. They’re actors 
and actresses — at least that’s what they call them- 
selves.” 

44 You have played in public? ” said Esther to Sa- 
brina. 

44 For more than five years.” 

44 I’m off for my chop and pint of stout,” declared 
Miranda. 44 Come again at four, Miss Yorke, and see 
the duffers. Ta, ta ! ” 

She whirled out of the room. 

44 Will you lunch with me?” said Sabrina gravely. 
44 1 belong to a small women’s club near here.” Esther 
smiled and accepted, murmuring: 

44 Does Miss Jagg lunch out in a pink dressing- 
gown and carpet slippers ? ” 

Sabrina explained. Miranda lived in three little 
rooms above the large room where she held her classes. 

44 She hardly ever goes out,” Sabrina added. 44 We 
give her all the exercise she needs, and when she wants 
fresh air she sits by an open window.” 

The girls walked through Covent Garden into King 
Street. Sabrina led the way into one of the old Geor- 
gian houses, where her club had lately installed itself. 
A simple lunch was ordered and consumed. Coffee fol- 
lowed. Then Sabrina said abruptly, 44 Why are you 
going on the stage? ” When some of the reasons 
were given, she nodded reflectively, but said nothing. 


THE PALADIN 


39 


Esther, in her turn, asked, “ Why do you take lessons 
from Miss Jagg? 99 

“ Because she can teach me a lot and because she 
may get me a London engagement.” 

44 You have never had a London engagement?” 

44 Never. You look surprised.” 

44 But you act so well, you ” 

44 Please go on! Tell me all the nice things you 
are thinking about me. I like you already, but I shall 
like you twice as much if you tell me I’m clever 
and ” 

She paused, smiling. Esther promptly filled in the 
word 44 beautiful.” 

44 1 was beautiful,” Sabrina said seriously. 44 Three 
years at fifteen shillings a week have printed some 
ugly lines on my face.” 

44 Fifteen shillings ! 99 Esther gasped. 

44 1 was with Johnson, serving my apprenticeship. I 
don’t complain; I learned a lot. When I left him, 
and went on my own, I nearly starved. Now I’m 
rich. I’ve one hundred and fifty pounds a year of my 
own — three pounds a week for ever and ever. I hope 
you have at least that.” She glanced at Esther’s 
dress. 44 What a silly question ! You spend twice as 
much on your frocks.” 

44 1 have five hundred pounds,” replied Esther slowly, 
44 a lot of clothes which I can’t wear because I’m, as 
you see, in deep mourning, some jewellery, and a little 
furniture.” 

44 Oh ! ” said Sabrina. 

Esther did not add (because she did not know) that 


40 


THE PALADIN 


the five hundred pounds had been subscribed for her by 
her father’s creditors. It was a small sum, but consid- 
ering the unhappy difference between the late banker’s 
assets and liabilities not an ungenerous one. 

“ But you must have heaps of friends, Miss Yorke? ” 

Esther considered, answering deliberately: 

“ I’m cutting loose. Some have been very kind. 
Could I accept their hospitality and reject their ad- 
vice? ” 

Sabrina laughed. 

“ You could, but you’re the sort that wouldn’t. Of 
course they advised you to keep off the boards ? Sound 
advice, too. Well, I cut loose from a country par- 
sonage. Waiter! The bill!” 

This was the beginning of a friendship destined to 
mean much to Esther. It ripened slowly. Perhaps on 
each side there was the apprehension that disappoint- 
ment might be lurking behind every milestone on the 
road. Dorothea Treherne had left London without 
meeting Esther again. She had called, but Esther, 
convinced — and not unreasonably — that a scene was 
impending, had returned a Roland for an Oliver. Mrs. 
Treherne was informed that Miss Yorke was “ not at 
home,” and so two women who might have been a joy 
and solace to each other were driven apart by the 
irony of circumstance. 

The season being at an end, Lady Matilda had be- 
gun her annual round of visits. She was at Cowes, 
and Harry was at Ostend. He had felt that he must 
put the deep blue sea between himself and this obsti- 
nate, headstrong creature whom he adored. At the 


THE PALADIN 


41 


time, therefore, when Esther removed from Palace Gar- 
dens to Bloomsbury, neither Harry nor his sister was 
in town. Sabrina, fortunately, had a large experience 
of landladies and a genius for economy. Esther, on 
the other hand, had a genius as marked for expendi- 
ture : her extravagance horrified the girl who had lived 
on fifteen shillings a week. 

We must record a scene between the lovers upon the 
eve of Harry’s departure for Ostend. It might have 
been so charming and romantic ; it turned out so much 
the reverse. All the blame cannot be laid on the man. 
The role of mouse was forced upon him, and you must 
never forget that ugly twins stood between him and 
forty thousand a year. When he left Eton he had 
reason to believe that he might aspire to a Lord Lieu- 
tenancy at least; the office was hereditary in the Rye 
family. Gazing at himself through a magnifying glass, 
beholding with complacency a figure of heroic size, the 
assurance of the editor of the popular sporting maga- 
zine was not needed to emphasise the admitted fact 
that he looked “ One of the Best.” 

Behold him on his knees before a chit of twenty! 

Of course he wanted her. The soft touch of her 
lips had driven prudence to Timbuctoo. He wanted 
h er — a t 0 nce. Special licences loomed in his mind. To 
make a Gretna Green affair of it would have been un- 
adulterated bliss. 

And she, the heartless creature, darkened his day by 
prattling inconsequently of — to-morrow. She hurled 
at him some saw out of the philosophies : “ Happi- 

ness must be earned to be enjoyed,” a lie on the face 


42 


THE PALADIN 


of it. Who so happy as children? He wanted to 
play Paul to her Virginia, to wander hand in hand 
with her upon the shores of Quiberon’s “ sickle-shaped 
bay,” or some other not too remote strand unfrequented 
by the ubiquitous tripper. 

And afterwards? 

She put the question brutally with derisive laughter, 
and he could never face it — like a paladin. Instead, he 
evaded it, slinking past the inevitable, actually blush- 
ing when she brazenly presented the possibility of 
children. 

But the main issue remained the stage. He heard 
of the visit to FitzRoy, but not of the walk from St. 
Martin’s Lane to Piccadilly Circus ; and he had to 
smile at Esther’s description of Miranda Jagg, turning 
up his nose at the pink dressing-gown and carpet 
slippers. 

“ If you had heard her with the star class ” 

“ I don’t want to hear her. That you should mix 
with such people makes me miserable. And I’m as- 
tounded that you should have gone alone to see 
FitzRoy. I told you that would be the last 
straw.” 

“You did. Why are you here to-day? A man of 
your inches should never threaten what he does not 
intend to perform.” 

“ I intended to cut loose, but you’re a witch. If I 
let you try this ridiculous experiment, will you marry 
me in three months ? ” 

She hesitated. 

“ Perhaps,” she said gently, “ but not till I’ve justi- 


THE PALADIN 43 

fied existence by earning my own bread and butter. 
Meantime, you are free and I am free.” 

“ I don’t want to be free.” 

“ I know you, Harry, and I know myself. Perhaps 
I know you better than I know myself, because I have 
never lived with antimacassars and Berlin wool-work. 
They are conspicuous in my new lodging, and they are 
sure to change my point of view.” 

“ And heaps of people want you.” 

“For week-end visits.” 

He went away grumbling, although they kissed at 
parting. When he had gone Esther sat frowning and 
thinking for nearly an hour. Why had this gallant, 
lover shrunk in Cupid’s washing? Perhaps offence lay 
in the humiliating inference that he was enamoured 
desperately of her body, while he expressed distrust if 
not contempt of her intelligence. Instinct told her 
that Harry Rye would be hard to live with if he dis- 
covered that his wife was cleverer than himself. 

The conviction stole upon her that she, even as he, 
had fallen in love with the envelope without waiting to 
study the document within. His good looks, his pleas- 
ant voice, his easy manner, had captivated her. He 
had that “ little way ” with women which counts for 
so much. Once she had asked her father what he 
thought of the young fellow. Mr. Yorke had replied 
drily that he was “ decorative.” 

Thinking of Harry, another face formed itself in 
her mind — the face of the doctor who had accosted her 
in Piccadilly Circus. The incident refused to be ban- 
ished from memory. She had been weak, abominably 


H 


THE PALADIN 


weak, at a moment when she should have been strong. 
And her weakness, not her beauty, such as it was, had 
appealed to a kindly man. Why had she felt faint? 
Did the sense of physical incapacity to rise to an 
emergency foreshadow horrors in the future? Her 
father, man of iron as she had deemed him to be, had 
failed in a supreme moment, because he was tired. And 
that word solved her riddle. Alone in the tremendous 
crowd, subject to its irresistible force, she had realised 
her own helplessness. Something more than words had 
passed between her and the waif of the pavement. If 
they never met again, they were linked together, be- 
cause in this unhappy creature Esther recognised a 
debased resemblance to herself. She knew that the girl 
had had sunny hours; she knew that the storm must 
have come suddenly, drenching her to the skin before 
she was aware of it, deafening her with its thunders, 
blinding her with its lightning. At the moment when 
she was engulfed by the crowd she had flung Esther a 
pathetic smile, half grateful, half derisive. The smile 
had seemed to say, “ I know what you are because I 
remember what I was. I might be you; you might 
be me.” 

And the truth made Esther sick and dizzy. 


CHAPTER IV 


IN BLOOMSBURY 

Bloomsbury received her and her pretty things in the 
middle of August. Sabrina had discovered, not with- 
out difficulty, two nice rooms in a dingy street within 
a stone’s throw of Mecklenburg Square. One of the 
rooms was glorified by a genuine Adams chimney-piece 
upon which stood a frightful ormulu clock under a 
glass shade and two Bohemian glass vases rising out of 
mats of purple and green Berlin wool-work. Anti- 
macassars abounded. 

The installation had its humours. 

Sabrina, from the first, opposed the taking of two 
rooms. And she tried, quite in vain, to persuade 
Esther to sell her Sheraton bookcase and other 
44 meubles ” of not inconsiderable value. 

44 I must keep something to remind me of the' fat 
years.” 

44 That is where you are so unwise. You ought to 
sell everything, I mean everything , invest the whole of 
it, and live on the income.” 

44 Live on a pound a week? ” 

44 Certainly.” 

44 1 couldn’t.” 

44 Millions have to do it.” 

Esther made a grimace, and Sabrina laughed, shrug- 
ging her shoulders. Already she divined obstinacy in 
45 


46 


THE PALADIN 


this new friend and the determination to go free. Mrs. 
Willet, the landlady, removed the antimacassars and 
wool-work and most of her furniture, not, however, 
without protest and affirmation of respectability. Miss 
Yorke, so she told her husband, was quite the lady; 
but she looked at Sabrina with wide-eyed interrogation. 
44 A play-actress ! That’s what they called ’emselves ! ” 
Sabrina, it is true, had introduced Esther, who seemed 
to have come to stay; but Sabrina also had lowered 
the rent of the rooms to the irreducible minimum. 

44 I can’t sleep when I think of that,” Mrs. Willet 
said to Willet. 

Within a week two long boxes filled with scarlet ge- 
raniums adorned the second floor front. Number 11 
became conspicuous in the dingy street. 

44 Who pays ? ” asked Willet. 

44 She does — cash on the nail for everything. You 
don’t suppose ?” 

44 Never saw a Jill like this without her Jack,” said 
Willet. 

44 I’ll have no Jacks, nor Toms either, taking 
away the character of my house,” declared Mrs. 
Willet. 

44 What you’ve got to do,” said the cautious Willet, 
44 is to see that the rent’s paid. If Jack drops in to 
tea it is none o’ your business.” 

44 1 say nothing against tea, Willet. But if any 
young man drops in to supper, why, I’ll drop on to 
him. I’m not a whited sepulchre like others in this 
street.” 

Nobody came to tea or supper except Sabrina. 


THE PALADIN 


47 


A month passed before Sabrina heard of Harry. 
Indeed, all mention of our paladin might have been 
suppressed had he not written a letter in which, for 
the fifth and last time, he proposed marriage. 

“ I have reason to believe ” (he wrote) “ that my 
uncle might increase my allowance. The twins have 
not had even measles, and they tell me babies die like 
flies in the dog-days. But I want your authority to 
write to Camber, and lay the facts before him. He’s 
not a bad sort, and he must feel rather cheap when he 
thinks of me. He was fifty-eight when he married that 
designing woman! 

“ I’ve had no fun here because of your obstinacy. 
It drives me wild to think of your stewing in Blooms- 
bury when we might be together listening to a ripping 
band. I suppose you’re living on buns and milk. Any- 
way, I want to tell Camber that we are engaged and 
going to get married at once. Then he can do the 
square thing if he means to behave decently. It might 
burke the affair to make our marriage provisional on 
his doubling my allowance, because it wouldn’t sur- 
prise me a little bit if the Mater had got at him. 
They met at Cowes, where people have absolutely noth- 
ing to do except to prattle about other people’s busi- 
ness. 

“ And now, at the risk of your calling me a beast, 
I’m going to say frankly that if you say 4 No,’ I shall 
take it that things are at an end between us. I want 
you as you are, dearest, not as you will be three years 
hence if you do succeed, which you admit is doubtful. 


48 


THE PALADIN 


Why rub off the bloom scrimmaging about with these 
confounded mummers?” 

A postscript followed: 

“ I’ve lost a stone over this job.” 

The postscript nearly melted Esther. Her Harry 
thin and pale, wandering alone upon the sands of Os- 
tend, brought tears to the heart if not to the eyes. 
And his letter came pat to a moment when the excite- 
ment of a great change had died a natural death. 
For several days Miranda had been sharper in word 
and manner. Slowly but unmistakably our heroine was 
beginning to grasp the fundamental difference between 
the gifted amateur and the professional, and to see 
clearly the nature of the road which she had elected 
to travel; a road lined with despairing ranks of unem- 
ployed. Sabrina, with her undoubted talent, remained 
without an autumn engagement. She wrote innumer- 
able letters to dramatists and actor-managers, she ad- 
vertised in the Era , she wore out shoe-leather flitting 
from agency to agency, but she was not wanted. 

By this time Esther had learned to admire in Sa- 
brina qualities lacking in herself. Sabrina’s common- 
sense cooled not unpleasantly perfervid sensibilities. 
Esther herself, not infelicitously, called this “ taking 
a dip in the Severn.” But she had never plunged to 
the depths. Each girl had little more than a surface 
knowledge of the other. 

“ Miranda has been awfully cross lately. What am 
I to infer from that?” 


THE PALADIN 49 

“ She will drink stout when the thermometer is sev- 
enty in the shade.” 

“ Sabrina — she thinks me a duffer.” 

“ So you are.” 

“ A hopeless duffer.” 

“ Are you fishing? You’ve not done badly.” 

“ I read 4 chuck it ! ’ in her funny little beady eyes.” 

“ Well, if anything else turned up, I’d say 4 chuck 
it,’ too.” 

“ Something has turned up. A man wants to marry 
me. I’ve said 6 no ’ four times.” 

Esther poured out the story curled up at ease on 
her divan amongst the big soft cushions. Sabrina sat 
bolt upright in a straight-backed chair. 

“ Why have you told me this ? ” 

“ I want your advice.” 

“ I don’t believe it. You want my experience. I 
don’t see why I should give it to you. I never asked 
for your confidence. I have been afraid of this. Per- 
haps we’re going too fast. I like you. I like you 
better every time we meet, but can I trust you? Why 
do you trust me? ” 

She shot the question at Esther. 

“ How funny you are ! ” 

“ Funny? ” Sabrina scowled. “ What an idiotic ex- 
pression ! You raise a tremendous issue. I say tre- 
mendous, because it is so to me. It may not be so 
to you. Why should you trust me? We have known 
each other a few weeks.” 

“ I wanted to tell you the first day we met.” 

“ Thank the Lord you didn’t ! I dislike women who 


50 


THE PALADIN 


gush without encouragement. And yet I like you. I 
believe I could love you. And, for my life, I can’t 
analyse the why and wherefore.” 

“Why should you? It’s instinct.” 

“ Perhaps. But I’m afraid of my instinct.” 

“ I have asked no confidence from you.” 

“ Pouf-f-f ! A cutlet for a cutlet is imperative. You 
have, in a sense, forced my hand, and yet I’m not in- 
dignant. That’s what surprises me.” 

Esther laughed, rolled off her cushions, stood up, 
and then, bending suddenly, kissed Sabrina affection- 
ately. 

“ Whether you like me or not, I love you.” 

Sabrina did not return the salute, but she grumbled 
out: “I suppose that settles it. Now, don’t scream, 
and don’t say anything ridiculous ; I’m a married 
woman.” 

“ Sabrina!” 

“ Let us be perfectly calm. I’m a married woman, 
and I don’t live with my husband, who is a respectable 
person. He allows me one hundred and fifty a year.” 

“ Gracious ! ” 

“ I would sooner you took this lying down. Please 
climb back on to your cushions, I married to escape 
from the slavery of fifteen shillings a week. I didn’t 
love my husband, and he knew it. Fortunately he is 
a golfer. I can’t account for it, but to some men 
that game offers perfectly astounding compensations. 
The week before a competition I told my husband that 
we had been idiots to marry. He was furious. He 
said that I’d wrecked his chance. My dear, I can only 


THE PALADIN 


51 


conclude that it gave him the fillip he needed. He 
played the game of his life, and his handicap was low- 
ered to five. It is now, I believe, three, and by giving 
his mashie undivided attention he may get down to 
scratch. He won three events, and he was so delighted 
that he consented to our separation. He is perfectly 
happy — and so am I.” 

“ Did he l-love you ? ” 

66 He thought he did.” 

Harry’s letter was produced and a photograph — 
the same which stood upon Lady Matilda’s baby-grand 
piano, and which provoked maternal superlatives. Sa- 
brina looked at it critically, with a vertical line be- 
tween her delicate brows, and her lower lip pressing 
full upon the arch of the upper. 

“ He is very handsome.” 

“ Yes.” 

“I suppose that appealed enormously to you. It 
would to me. My poor Tom was not beautiful.” She 
went on, staring at the photograph as if striving to 
pierce beneath the crust, while a few phrases dropped 
upon the silence. 

“ You promised his mother, but promises at the 
point of the pistol are not binding. What some excel- 
lent persons call honour has never tyrannised over me. 
At least not since I left Tom. And Mr. Rye has seven 
hundred a year, and ” 

“ His debts.” 

“ I was going to say the hope, the probability, of 
an increased allowance from Lord Camber, who I’ve 
been told is rich beyond dreams of avarice; but the 


52 


THE PALADIN 


avarice may be there all the same. It wouldn’t be 
prudent to assume the increase of allowance.” 

“ I don’t.” 

“Quite right! Then the twins may perish. Your 
Harry alluded to dog-days.” 

“ It was horrid of him.” 

“ It proves that he has a sanguine temperament. 
What he says of scrimmaging about with mummers 
is so true. The bloom will fade from his dearest in 
Bloomsbury.” 

“You are laughing at him and me?” 

“ God forbid! ” 

“ You don’t like him? ” 

“ Wrong again. I like him because he is so — guile- 
less, and, unconsciously, such a humorist. If you 
marry him he will amuse you.” 

“ You say that gravely, as if it were really an in- 
ducement.” 

“ If you had known my poor Tom! Well, I detest 
giving an opinion upon anything as vital as this, but 
you expect it. Mr. Rye is not clever. Therefore you 
may do something with him if you exercise extraordi- 
nary tact. He must be kept up to the mark. He 
mustn’t play the hero intermittently. Why do you 
wriggle? ” 

“ I can’t help it ; you present him in motley.” 

“ The West End tailors will tell you it’s the com- 
mon wear, but don’t let him find it out. Of course 
you’ll marry him.” 

“ I shall not marry him,” said Esther slowly. 

“ You won’t be able to stand this life. Don’t mis- 


THE PALADIN 


53 


take me! You may learn to live on lentils and like 
them, but disappointment will crush you.” 

The word came out harshly ; the lines in the speaker’s 
face deepened. 

“ I can’t marry him.” 

“ You mean you don’t love him.” 

“ I mean — oh ! it’s hard to explain. I did love him. 

And there are moments now But I seem to see 

him with different eyes. I have become critical.” 

“ Exit Cupid, weeping.” 

“ Yes. And yet ” She sighed, faintly blush- 

ing, remembering how she had felt when she lay in 
his arms. 

“ Are there two Esther Yorkes?” 

“Half a dozen!” 

“ Then, as the daughter of a clergyman of the 
Church of England, I forbid the banns. Henry Rye 
must not be encouraged to commit polygamy.” 

“ If you would be really serious.” 

“ But I am serious, more serious than you are or 
can be.” Her charming voice, with its many inflec- 
tions, deepened and became impressive. “ And, as you 
wish it, I shall speak plainly, and I daresay you will 
be furious. This young man has been making love to 
you for years. You know it, he knows it, and other 
men know it. I’ll bet a new hat you have had no 
proposals.” 

“ Not one.” 

“ He .stuck a sign upon you : 4 Private property. 

Trespassers will be prosecuted to the full extent of 
the law ! ’ ” 


54 


THE PALADIN 


“ I had never thought of it in that way.” 

“ He played cricket for the Gentlemen of England. 
What a fine phrase — the Gentlemen of England ! But 
he didn’t play cricket with you. Don’t look indignant ! 
He wanted to be free to amuse himself. When the time 
came he knew you would be there, a nice, dimpled little 
dear, ready to fall into his arms when he opened 
them.” 

“ But he did ask me. Is he selfish now? ” 

“ Yes,” said Sabrina deliberately. “ He is thinking 
of the bloom on the peach.” 

“ Why shouldn’t he ? ” 

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. Esther continued 
vehemently : 

“ If he really wants me ” 

“ Oh ! He wants you. He is the hart royal, heated 
in the chase, and you — the cooling stream.” 

“ I don’t feel particularly cool.” 

“When he has slaked his thirst, what then? Can 
you face that question fearlessly? Most girls have 
not the pluck, nor the brains, nor the experience. I 
am talking plainly, Esther. If some friend had talked 
as plainly to me, Tom might not have begun to play 
golf on his honeymoon. My dear, if you expect to 
find in a husband the great things — fidelity, sympathy, 
and unselfishness, don’t marry this man ! ” 

“ I have said that I shall not marry him.” 

“True, but you are one of those delightful crea- 
tures who are governed by impulse instead of reason. 
Now let me show the other side. Your Harry has 
seven hundred a year, and more to come. With his 


THE PALADIN 


55 


upbringing and yours seven hundred a year means 
pinching, but it does not mean — starvation.” 

The grim word fell like a blow. 

“ Starvation ? ” 

“ I have starved. I have felt so hungry that I could 
have stolen a crust from a dog or a child. I have 
been tempted, atrociously tempted, to sell the only 
thing that was left me for a mess of pottage.” She 
laughed drearily. “ If Esau suffered half the pangs 
that have torn me I do not blame him. Well, I wor- 
ried through because I am stronger than most. Will 
you worry through? ” 

Esther’s tears were falling on the silken cushions. 

“ I do not know,” she faltered. Sabrina continued 
in a softer tone: 

“ Marry this man with your eyes open, and you will 
be fairly comfortable, fairly secure. Because he tri- 
fled with you when you were rich, you have the right 
to marry him now that you are poor. I am clear on 
that point.” 

“ I shall not marry him.” 

“Amen. I dare not say Hallelujah!” 

Next day Esther wrote to Harry: 

I cannot marry you. Perhaps the bloom has been rubbed 
off already. Life seems very different. And because the pres- 
ent is dull and drab, one thinks more and more of the future. 
With you, or without you, I am terrified of the future. Good- 
bye. 

Harry received this letter as he was sipping his 
morning coffee upon the terrace of a splendid hotel 


56 


THE PALADIN 


overlooking the sea. He told himself that he was the 
most miserable man in Ostend, and the most unlucky. 
Only the night before, at the Cercle Prive, he had lost 
a (for him) not inconsiderable sum at baccarat, and, 
accordingly, had fortified himself with the reflection 
that his love affairs must be mending. Had a man 
ever been known to be unlucky in love and cards simul- 
taneously ? 

But he had done the real right thing. 

For the moment he slips from our sight. It will 
never be known what Lady Matilda said to Lord Cam- 
ber at Cowes, but Harry had the good fortune to se- 
cure a billet at The Hague, and together with this a 
pleasant letter from his uncle, saying that his allow- 
ance would be increased, and that in the event of his 
marrying a suitable young lady proper settlements 
might be made. The word “ suitable ” may be ex- 
plained by a letter from Lady Matilda, which we pre- 
sent unmutilated: 


My dearest Boy, — Captain Saladin, whom I met at Cowes — 
he is one of the oldest members of the Squadron, and very kind, 
although they do call him the Old Curiosity Shop — seems to have 
known Douglas Yorke very intimately five-and- twenty years 
ago. Captain Saladin tells me, in the strictest confidence, that 
there was a certain scandal about Mrs. Yorke. Nobody knew 
anything about her. Of course her death soon after poor dear 
Esther’s birth silenced all tongues. But Captain Saladin is 
quite sure that Douglas Yorke was not legally married to her. 
This has been a terrible shock, for you know how very dear 
Esther was — and is — to me. It is curious that in the books of 
reference which I have dipped into there is no mention of any 
marriage. In these cases one must infer the worst. 

Have you seen my picture in the current number of ‘ Butter- 


THE PALADIN 


57 


flies ’? I am on the front page. The likeness is excellent, but 
underneath is written: One of our Titled Breeders of Poultry. 
The editor, silly fellow! confounded me with that fright Matilda 
Wyandotte whose photograph appears in the middle of the 
paper with my name under it. This has annoyed me very much, 
for the Grand Duke Ivan, who ought to know better, will sing 
before me a vulgar song about cocks crowing and everybody 
knowing that there’ll be eggs for breakfast in the morning! ! I 
And last night, dining on the royal yacht, I found an egg in 
my napkin. The Prince was unkind enough to roar with 
laughter. 

Always your loving 

Mother. 

P.S. — I do see the finger of Providence in all this. 

M.R. 

P.P.S. — Your uncle has been most civil. It is so odd to reflect 
that he might have married little me if your father hadn’t 
turned up. Ca donne furieusement a penser! 

P.P.P.S. — Of course poor dear Esther knows nothing of this 
sad story, and must never know. Many kisses. 

Mummie. 




CHAPTER V 


CONTAINS A COMMUNICATION 

Miranda prided herself on telling the truth. Man- 
agers, appreciating this rare virtue, often came to her 
in hours of need and engaged pupils with no recom- 
mendation other than Miss Jagg’s assurance that they 
were not “ sticks.” Greater praise she bestowed on 
few. The “ sticks,” moreover, never lingered long with 
her, unless they had more money than pride. After a 
couple of months she would say, with a smile that 
took some of the sting out of her words : “ My dear, 
you are no good; you can’t act for nuts, and I can’t 
make you act. Chuck it! If you won’t chuck it, I 
must double my terms. There you are ! ” 

Sometimes the sacred fire burned so strongly that 
they stayed on — at double fees! 

Before September was over Miranda asked Esther 
to share a steak and a quart of stout. If you lunched 
with Miss Jagg you ate and drank what she ate and 
drank — or went without. After the cheese Miranda 
always made the coffee; and after the coffee she would 
speak with even greater frankness and volubility than 
usual. 

“ I wish I could turn you into a great actress,” she 
told Esther, as she lit a cigarette, “ but I can’t. You 
are no better and no worse than nine-tenths of the 
girls who come to me. With luck you may get an 
58 


THE PALADIN 


59 


engagement as understudy, and later, when your looks 
go, you may be cast for third-rate parts. Nothing 
more can be expected; and so I say chuck it! Try 
something else. Don’t waste time and money knock- 
ing at doors which, believe me, won’t open wide for 
you.” 

“ Thanks,” said Esther. 

“ Thank you for not howling. Tears make me furi- 
ous ; and, look here, have no regrets. It’s a beast of 
a profession. I love it — yes, because I was born and 
bred in it ; but it tears the heart out of one. Look at 
Sabrina Lovell! With half a chance she’d earn her 
forty guineas a week, but chance won’t come her way.” 

44 What can I do ? ” 

44 My dear, go back to your friends, wear some 
smart black and white frocks, marry a nice kind man.” 

44 Mention something else.” 

44 You might start a hat shop, or a dressmaking es- 
tablishment.” 

44 Establishment ! ” 

44 Two girls who came to me, both sticks, are doing 
well with a bookstall. They started in one tiny room 
on next to nothing. Another woman, who played lead- 
ing parts in the provinces, now makes sandwiches and 
cakes somewhere in Battersea. There are ways for 
girls without means, but they are hard to find.” 

64 1 hate saying good-bye,” said Esther. 

44 Why good-bye? You will come and see me. We 
shall remain friends. If you decide to trim hats I shall 
send some heads to you. Talk it over with Sabrina 
Lovell.” 


60 THE PALADIN 

To Esther’s surprise Sabrina thought well of the 
hat shop. 

44 It’s largely a matter of clientele” she observed. 
44 You must knows heaps of people; and you’ve excel- 
lent taste. You would buy some really good models 
in Paris and get the shapes copied over here. You 
would have to pay a top wage to a first-class trim- 
mer.” 

44 1 must think it over.” 

44 If I were to go in with you ? ” 

44 Sabrina ! ” 

44 I’m sick of doing nothing. You’ve five hundred 
pounds and I’ve one hundred and fifty pounds a year 
for ever and ever. Together we can’t starve.” 

44 You are always using that word 4 starve.’ ” 

44 I’m branded with it.” 

44 1 should be afraid of nothing with you as a part- 
ner.” 

44 We’ll think this over.” 

44 Books would be more interesting.” 

44 I’m sure there’s no money in bookselling, but I’ll 
find out.” 

Next day Sabrina consulted a friend who was at 
once author, publisher, and bookseller. His report was 
not encouraging. 

44 1 don’t know,” said he, 44 which is the greater fool, 
the man who writes books or the man who sells books.” 

44 People can do so easily without books, but they 
must wear hats,” said Sabrina. 

That night they spent two hours staring at a map 
of London, and considering the respective claims of 


THE PALADIN 61 

different localities. For a week they walked about 
Mayfair, peering into hat-shop windows. 

64 The profits must be enormous,” said Esther. 

44 Um,” replied Sabrina. 

They began to scan the advertisement columns ; 
finally they inserted one of their joint composi- 
tion : 

44 Wanted : two rooms for the purpose of establish- 
ing a small hat shop in a fashionable part of town. 
Rent must be moderate.” 

They were inundated with letters. 

Finally Chapel Street, S.W., was selected. Sabrina 
insisted upon an agreement ; and Miranda said that 
everything between partners should be set forth in 
black and white. The day before the agreement was 
signed Miranda spoke a last word to Esther. 

44 Sabrina Lovell has shown me the agreement.” 

44 It’s more in my favour than hers. Don’t you 
think so ? ” 

44 Yes — if you can trust her.” 

44 Trust — Sabrina?” 

44 My dear, you must get out of the trick of raising 
your pretty eyebrows unnecessarily high. Keep your 
forehead smooth as long as you can. Sabrina Lovell 
is a good sort — that’s why I tried to bring you to- 
gether — but you are risking your little capital ; she 
has no — capital ” 

44 She shares her income with me.” 

44 True. But if you lost your capital she might 
decline to go on sharing the income.” 

44 You don’t know Sabrina.” 


62 


THE PALADIN 


“ I admit it cheerfully. No woman does really know 
another woman.” 

44 She would share her last crust with a friend.” 

44 You have shown the agreement to your solicitor? ” 

44 Of course. I am twenty-one next month, and the 
money is not mine till then. He ” (the man of law 
was indicated) “ is a regular old woman.” 

44 He might be something worse^ I am an irregular 
old woman.” 

44 You will always be young, Miranda.” 

44 1 am old as the hills when it comes to business ; 
old when I pinch and screw to save a few pounds ; 
only young,” she smiled and sighed, 44 when I’m spend- 
ing money, my dear.” 

44 And time,” added Esther, taking her hand. 

44 You ought to say those pleasant things to men. 
I can’t imagine why the men aren’t buzzing round you. 
H’oneypot you are. Marriage would suit you a 
heap better than selling hats. Where on earth is 
Jack? ” 

Esther kissed her and whispered: 

44 Once there was a Harry. I can’t talk about him, 
and you mustn’t ask questions. By the way, speak- 
ing of my solicitor, Mr. Bostock, I am to receive what 
he calls a communication on my twenty-first birth- 
day.” 

44 Oh! Mystery?” 

44 Yes ; I’m sure from his face and manner that it’s 
something unpleasant. But I’m hardened now.” 

44 Pooh ! Soft as cream cheese still.” 

44 I’m not.” 


THE PALADIN 


63 


“You are. Well, I believe you can trust Sabrina; 
but suppose anything happened to her, what then? 55 

“ She has splendid health.” 

“ So have I, but I shall turn up my toes one day — 
perhaps to-morrow. I’m getting so fat that I shall 
be run over by a motor.” 

“ One must take some chances.” 

“ Yes ; that’s true. I shall buy a hat from you ; my 
pupils must buy hats; my friends must buy hats.” 

The repapering of the rooms in Chapel Street occu- 
pied both girls for a few days, and during an excit- 
ing fortnight the name of the firm was chosen — Sa- 
brina et Cie. Circular letters were printed, and later 
a journey to Paris undertaken. High hope coloured 
two pairs of cheeks ; but the word “ fun,” too often in 
Esther’s mouth, provoked a rebuke. 

“ The real fun will begin when we touch our profits. 
I mean to touch them, if there are any. I shall put 
fifty sovereigns into a basin and wash my hands in 
them.” 

“You have no regrets, Sabrina, about the stage?” 

“ I feel towards the stage as you feel towards Harry 
Rye. If I were offered a big engagement I should 
refuse it.” 

“ Rubbish ! I could attend to the shop.” 

“And who, pray, would attend to you?” 

About this time an incident occurred, trifling in it- 
self, but one to be recorded. Esther and Sabrina were 
wandering through the New Gallery, when Esther ex- 
claimed, as heedless of grammar as the good folk in 
the “ J ackdaw of Rheims ” : 


64 


THE PALADIN 


“That’s him!” 

She pointed excitedly at a portrait hanging upon 
the line; a remarkable piece of work by an artist just 
beginning to challenge attention. Other portraits 
compared with this seemed commonplace, partly be- 
cause the face indicated a masterful personality and 
partly because the treatment suggested a story. The 
accessories in the picture had been presented with a 
few strong touches, everything being subordinate to 
the head and hands, and yet these accessories — of no 
particular interest to the beholder — denoted an over- 
mastering passion in the model. A man was stand- 
ing in a laboratory, holding up a test-tube upon which 
his eyes were fixed in a glance so penetrating and 
intense that curiosity as to what the test-tube might 
contain became mordant. One saw a colourless fluid. 
In the dim background a plain deal table was cov- 
ered by shadowy glass retorts and other paraphernalia. 

“ Who is he? ” said Sabrina. 

(c The doctor I met in Piccadilly Circus.” 

She had told the story to Sabrina. 

Esther looked at the catalogue. Number 271 bore 
the name Harvey Napier, and after it, F.R.C.S. 

“ Have you ever heard of Harvey Napier? ” Esther 
asked after a pause. 

“ No,” said Sabrina, with her eyes on the portrait, 
“ but we shall hear of him. Pie’s small and ugly, but 
what a forehead ! What eyes ! ” 

“ And, evidently, he cares to look at nothing except 
what is in that tube.” 

“ That is why we shall hear of him some day.” 


THE PALADIN 65 

“ He has had his bad times, too,” murmured Esther. 

“You are sure it’s the same man?” 

“ Absolutely.” 

Sabrina stepped back, holding up her hands to iso- 
late the face. 

“ I see triumph, eh? Those few drops represent, 
perhaps, months of work. How cleverly the means are 
subordinated: mere shadows. But the end, the result, 
is there. He holds it in his hands as if it were the 
Grail. It may be the Grail to him, to obtain which 
he has had to sacrifice what other men hold dear.” 

“ Sabrina, you make me see that. How wonderful 
you are ! ” 

“ The triumph is tempered by some emotion I can’t 
quite interpret. Do you think he is counting the 
cost?” Esther nodded as Sabrina continued: 

“ I see books, innumerable books, ghosts of books ! 
He has read them all. The painter is a wizard. This 
is a great moment, but he is not quite satisfied. He 
knows that he has paid too much. Perhaps the jan- 
itor can give us information.” 

But the janitor, good, easy fellow, knew nothing 
except that the portrait aroused interest. 

“ It’s some doctor. There’s poison in that tube.” 

“ How do you know? ” 

“ It’s poison,” the man repeated obstinately. “ A 
swell said so; I heard him.” 

The girls went back to the picture. Sabrina 
frowned at the test-tube. 

“ If it’s poison he may be wondering whether he 
has discovered good or evil.” 


66 


THE PALADIN 


44 We must find out more about him.” 

A doctor supplied details. Napier was a rising man, 
a specialist in diseases of women and children, and the 
author of a text-book on toxicology; he was a bach- 
elor, a man of few friends, something of a recluse, with 
a bedside manner not to be described as engaging. 
44 He tells ’em what he really thinks,” concluded their 
informant, “ and they don’t like it.” 

The portrait impressed itself upon Esther’s mind, 
but other things covered it up, the obscuring films of 
new experiences. Nevertheless, she had the instinct 
that Napier and she would meet again and the vague 
hope that the meeting might take place soon. Sa- 
brina expressed the opinion that women were beneath 
his horizon. 64 He has never had time to fall in love,” 
she asserted. 

In October Esther came of age. Sabrina and she 
dined together at an inexpensive restaurant and went 
to the play, occupying two stalls, free seats of course, 
in a crowded house. But Sabrina, after a leisurely 
survey, whispered the word 44 Paper ! ” 

44 How do you know? ” 

44 Unmistakable. Look at the frocks ! Look at the 
men ! And the expressions ! They all come conscious 
that the piece is doomed. Funereal — isn’t it? And 
they won’t applaud if they can possibly help it; and 
they’ll crab the play, good or bad.” 

The play happened, however, to be good and ad- 
mirably cast; but coming out of the theatre two stout 
dowagers on their way to supper at the Savoy mut- 
tered that the entertainment was much too long. These 


THE PALADIN 


67 


ladies had paid for their stalls; the free list, return- 
ing to the suburbs with nothing more exciting ahead 
than sandwiches and lager, pronounced the play “ too 
sad.” Men slaving from nine to six in the city, women 
with more children than servants, and pallid from the 
strenuous endeavour to make weekly cash receipts bal- 
ance weekly bills, wanted to be amused by farce or 
thrilled by melodrama. 

“ They think sometimes,” said Sabrina, “ but they 
do their thinking outside the theatre. This play is 
fine, but it won’t last three weeks, and the cast has 
been rehearsing for nearly six without pay. Some of 
’em will earn less than a fiver for two months’ work. 
We must do better than that with our hats.” 

“I shall have my five hundred pounds to-mor- 
row.” 

66 And the communication ? ” 

66 And the communication.” 

Esther went alone to the offices of Barnwell & Bos- 
tock, in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Old Mr. Bostock was 
associated in her mind with horrors, for he had broken 
to her, as considerately as possible, the news of her 
father’s defalcations. The fact that he was so terribly 
shocked had made the recital more poignant, for Barn- 
well & Bostock had acted as Mr. Yorke’s private solic- 
itors and knew nothing, except by hearsay, of the 
affairs of the bank. 

Esther was ushered into a private room which ex- 
uded respectability from every pore. It was stuffy 
and small; but certain names printed in white letters 
upon black tin boxes were as refreshing as ozone to 


68 


THE PALADIN 


those who believe that our landed gentry are the back- 
bone of the kingdom. 

“ Sit down, my dear young lady. Can I offer you 
a glass of barley water? ” 

“ No, thank you,” said Esther nervously. 

The old man fumbled with some papers. His fingers 
shook as he took from a drawer a memorandum-book 
and opened it. 

“ Did your father ever speak to you of your 
mother? ” 

“ Never.” 

“ She was a charming woman.” 

“ You knew her, Mr. Bostock? ” 

“ Quite well.” 

He took off his spectacles and polished the lenses, 
looking from them to his client with a distress which 
appealed to Esther. 

“ Mr. Bostock,” she said, “ I am sure that what you 
have to tell me pains you ” — he nodded — “ but I can’t 
remember my mother, and I am quite prepared for 
something disagreeable. After what has passed noth- 
ing can hurt me very much.” 

“ Your father ran away with your mother.” 

“Ran away?” 

She tried to visualise this elopement, and failed. 
Her father remained the automaton, the machine. 

“ Yes” 

“ It sounds incredible.” 

u She was the wife of another man.” 

“ Oh!” 

“ Who had treated her abominably.” 


THE PALADIN 


69 


“ Oh, oh ! ” 

“ She behaved like an angel. The man was a client 
of mine and not responsible. He became insane. At 
the risk of her life she took care of him till others — 
I amongst the number — interfered. He was placed in 
a private asylum, and he is there still.” 

A silence followed, broken only by the rustling of 
the papers moved by the lawyer’s thin, wrinkled hand. 
Presently he said slowly: 44 The marriage laws of this 
country may be a blessing to many, but they can be 
a terrible curse to the few. The wife of an incurable 
madman can obtain no divorce.” 

44 My mother never married my father? ” 

44 She resisted him as long as she could. He was 
a masterful man, and he adored her. When she died, 
in a sort of sense, he died, too. I have known three 
such cases, only three. Your father was intended to 
be the exact opposite of what he became afterwards. 
Your mother and he had two years of happiness 
abroad. Here is a letter from her to me.” 

He held out an envelope. 


My dear friend, — After all you have done and tried to do 
for me, I must write to tell you how completely happy I am. 
As you know I had denied the possibility of happiness; and 
always I had laughed at Douglas when he told me, over and 
over again, that he held it in trust for me. My only regret is 
that I did not go to him sooner. I don’t think we shall ever 
return to England. Douglas is satisfied with Italy, and so am 
I. I want my baby to be born in this land of sun so that it 
may be warmed through and through. I was never warm till I 
lived here Come and see us when- you have ten days to 
spare. . . , 


70 


THE PALADIN 


“ There is one more,” said the lawyer. Then he 
added with a sigh: “I did visit them, shortly before 
you were born. I have never seen two persons so en- 
tirely happy, and so absolutely interdependent upon 
each other.” 

Esther read the second letter: 

My dear friend, — The baby has my eyes and skin. Between 
ourselves Douglas is jealous of it. He thinks it stands between 
him and me. His devotion is something extraordinary. Now 
that my health is not what it was I seem to realise more fully 
the strength of his feeling for me. We are going to the moun- 
tains next week, and soon I shall be myself again. This is a 
scrappy letter, but really I’m still ridiculously weak, as you 
will divine from my handwriting. 

Esther laid the letter upon her lap. 

“ She went to the mountains,” said Mr. Bostock, 
“ but she didn’t recover her strength. She died.” 

“And then ?” 

“ Your father came home with you. I hardly recog- 
nised him. He went back to business, founded the 
bank, devoted himself to the accumulation of money. 
He became very rich. I saw little of him. I made his 
will. At that time I promised to tell you what I have 
told you in the event of his decease. I think that’s 
all. If you would like to keep those letters ” 

“ Thank you very much.” 

“ And now about this enterprise of yours ? ” 

They talked hat-shop for half an hour. At the end 
the lawyer said in his deliberate tone: “ You will have 
your way, and perhaps you are right. Still, if the 
money were invested ” 


THE PALADIN 71 

Esther repeated her phrase : “ One must take cer- 

tain chances.” 

“ Yes ; and the world is divided into the lucky and 
the unlucky.” 

“ My mother was unlucky, Mr. Bostock?” 

“ She had two wonderful years.” 

Esther went her way. Sabrina was waiting for her 
at her lodging, but she felt dazed, unable to think or 
to speak with lucidity. Alone, in the Temple Gar- 
dens, she tried to marshal her whirling thoughts. 

Ever since her father’s death an increasing resent- 
ment against poverty and discomfort and the sordid 
side of life had thrown into high relief her desire for 
happiness and tranquillity, and her terror lest these 
should be denied to her. And, day by day, she had 
realised that misery and suffering are imposed upon 
Hie many. Not a dozen feet away was a magnificent 
perambulator in which a baby lay asleep, a dimpled 
darling, upon whose pink, plump prettiness money and 
care and love had been lavished. Staring at the baby 
stood a little girl, ragged, dirty, with that hopeless, 
helpless expression of misery upon her pinched face so 
indescribably terrible and pathetic. 

Of what was the child thinking? Did envy tear her 
small heart? 

Suddenly perceiving Esther’s eyes upon her, she 
said sharply: 

“ Ain’t it pretty ? ” 

A well-nourished nurse bade the waif begone in a 
voice not to be disregarded. Esther beckoned, and 
the girl limped up to her, sucking a black thumb. A 


THE PALADIN 


72 

few questions elicited as many facts. The child lived 
in a kennel with drunken parents. She was half- 
starved. To give to her food, to learn her address in 
the hope of finding sanctuary for her in some hospital 
where hip-disease would justify admission, engrossed 
Esther for half an hour, and lightened her own bur- 
dens. Then her thoughts returned, like boomerangs, 
to the point of departure: the bar sinister across her 
birth. And not till then did she consider its relation 
to her love affair with Rye, which shows that her love 
or fancy for our paladin had diminished. When she 
did think of him she smiled faintly and murmured to 
herself : “ What an escape for Harry ! 99 


CHAPTER VI 


A CLOUD IN A CLEAR SKY 

“We are coining money,” said Esther. 

Sabrina closed the ledger. Esther laughed, exhib- 
iting dimples of satisfaction. Sabrina looked serious 
and bit the end of a quill. 

66 All the same, I wish some of these fine ladies would 
pay their bills.” 

“We must give them time.” 

66 Six months hard, if I had my way, without the 
option of a fine.” 

“ The ones who don’t pay send us customers who 
do.” 

“ Not always.” 

Esther recalled the case of a dashing she who had 
bought five hats and introduced a dear friend. The 
new customer ordered half a dozen, just to go “ one 
better,” as she put it; and ten days later, dropping 
in to express her delight and satisfaction, had bor- 
rowed five pounds on the evergreen plea that her purse 
had been left at home. The lady happened to be a 
countess, but — as Sabrina remarked — that made the 
offence more rank. 

However, Sabrina et Cie, (and in particular the 
Cie.) were prospering. Sabrina was now living with 
Esther in the dingy street near Mecklenburg Square. 
But they talked, you may be sure, of a small flat not 
73 


74 


THE PALADIN 


too far from the park, spoken of as the chateau in 
France — Spain, admittedly, being unreasonably dis- 
tant. Esther sold hats to her old friends and acquaint- 
ances, and offered them tea in Chapel Street, not to 
mention delectable sandwiches; but she refused to re- 
veal the address in Bloomsbury. 

“Where do you live, my dear?” said Mrs. Rock- 
ingham Trigg. 

“ I live in a castle which is moving nearer and 
nearer to Hyde Park every day,” replied our heroine. 

Lady Matilda drank tea with her dearest Esther, 
and pronounced the hats to be “ deevy.” From the 
fond mother leaked information concerning her boy, 
now a second secretary of legation, and preening his 
wings for higher flights. 

“ He’ll be an ambassador some day,” predicted Lady 
Matilda. 

The little lady went away in a pleasant humour, 
having bought a modest hat, which she told Dorothea 
she didn’t really want, because dear Esther had “ be- 
haved so well.” Then Dorothea called and bought 
hats and hats and hats, some of which she must have 
given away. The gulf between these old friends was 
almost bridged once. 

“Did Harry ask you to marry him?” said Doro- 
thea abruptly. 

Esther frowned, but replied quickly, “ Yes.” 

“ Why didn’t you take him ? ” 

“ What is not enough for one will hardly do for 
two or three.” 

In another instant Dorothea would have said ve- 


THE PALADIN 


75 


hemently : “ I told him to ask you ; I wanted him to 

marry you ; I knew that it was a tremendous oppor- 
tunity — for him.” Unfortunately a customer rustled 
in, and Esther said awkwardly, “ Forgive me, but I 
must attend to my own little business.” 

Dorothea, acutely sensitive, conceived herself to be 
snubbed. She hurried away with a faint flush upon 
her cheeks. We must admit that Esther used the 
wrong phrase, or at least one conveying a double 
meaning, but Dorothea’s abrupt question had upset 
her. It was quite unthinkable that Mrs. George Tre- 
herne approved a marriage between her only brother 
and the penniless daughter of Douglas Yorke. We 
may add that the delusion was not wilful on either 
side. 

The paladin remained at The Hague. Not a word, 
not a message, came across the North Sea. He had 
heard of the hat shop, of course ; and one has a glimpse 
of him shuddering. A photograph, taken at this time 
by the Court photographer, exhibits our Harry in 
the distinguished uniform of the Corps Diplomatique. 
His face has a fuller curve; he wears a discreet smile 
(the French word marquois describes it better) ; and 
he stands solidly, as becomes a future pillar of the 
State. It was whispered in boudoirs that the young 
fellow had loved and lost. Having suffered shipwreck, 
who could blame him for steering wide of the rocks 
upon which the sirens sit and sing? But the sense 
that he had risen to an occasion sustained him; he 
slept with an approving conscience self- justified as a 
lion-hearted cricketer and an Imperialist. 


76 


THE PALADIN 


During the following season Sabrina et Cie. moved 
into larger premises, paying a rent in geometrical pro- 
portion. Esther’s coaxing overruled Sabrina’s com- 
monsense. Miranda Jagg, being an optimist, cast a 
determining vote. 

“ Back your luck ! ” said this sporting old wo- 
man. 

“ Keep it in the bank,” retorted Sabrina. 

The irony of fate decreed that Miss Lovell should be 
offered a London engagement, which she refused, not 
without heart-burnings and dolors. Esther and Mi- 
randa entreated her to accept it. At the moment the 
great move was taking place. 

“ I am wanted here,” said Sabrina. 

How badly she was wanted, only she knew, and her 
lips closed upon that knowledge. Ten times a day, at 
least, she put the brake upon Esther’s dashing driv- 
ing of their little apple cart. She tightened loosely- 
held reins ; she indicated ruts and holes ; she refused to 
give up the key of the com crib. 

“ It’s the pace that kills,” she repeated again and 
again. 

They made an admirable working team, though the 
apple cart was pulled tandem-wise, Esther being on 
the lead, prancing and cantering, Sabrina doggedly 
trotting between the shafts. Those ladies whose mem- 
ories will carry them back eight seasons will recall fre- 
quent mention of the firm upon theatrical programmes. 
Stars scintillated in hats furnished by Sabrina et 
Cie. There is no better advertisement than this, but 
it is costly, as we shall soon discover. Providing 


THE PALADIN 77 

headgear for countesses who don’t pay may be 
cheaper. 

At the end of the season both women were fagged. 
Mrs. Rockingham Trigg insisted that “ Her young 
friend ought to enjoy a well-earned holiday.” Sa- 
brina, with a nose perhaps too keen for platitudes, 
repeated the phrase exasperatingly : “ You must en- 

joy a well-earned holiday.” 

“ By myself ? ” 

“ Bed and board in stately homes await you.” 

“ I shall not enter stately homes, and you know it.” 

Sabrina knew it. Esther had hammered home the 
knowledge with her bar sinister, using it as a shille- 
lagh. When our heroine left the Temple Gardens, she 
left in them — or thought she did — vain regrets and 
repinings. She faced Sabrina with a smile upon white 
lips. Sabrina glanced at red eyelids, and then listened 
to a Declaration of Independence delivered too dramat- 
ically to be quite convincing. 

“ I am naked, but not ashamed,” said Esther. And 
yet she blushed. 

“Why should you be ashamed?” 

“ If I blush,” said poor Esther, conscious of burn- 
ing cheeks, “ it is for the marriage laws of this coun- 
try. Andromeda was chained to a rock; English law 
and equity chained my mother to a monster — a raving 
maniac — who is alive still ! ” 

Sabrina nodded, making no reply. Contrasted with 
Esther’s ingenuous confidence, the elder woman’s re- 
serve became aggressively salient. 

“ You say nothing, Sabrina.” 


78 


THE PALADIN 


Sabrina laughed. 

“ Perhaps I am tired of words, which mean so little 
and seem to mean so much.” 

“You think that most people don’t say what they 
mean ? ” 

“ I am of Talleyrand’s opinion about speech.” 

“ You are too hard.” 

“Perhaps. I don’t let people impose on me more 
than twice. You do ; and you will pay dearly for that. 
Mark me, Esther, in essentials men and women don’t 
change much, except for the worse ! Liars and cowards 
and humbugs remain liars and cowards and humbugs 
till they die — and perhaps afterwards.” 

She laughed drearily. Esther kissed her. 

“ This communication of Mr. Bostock’s leaves me 
with a free hand.” 

“ Does it? What do you mean? ” 

“ I can do what I please, regardless of Mrs. 
Grundy.” 

“ What pleases you now may displease a couple of 
years hence.” 

Then the subject was buried. It did not rise from 
the tomb till the mention of stately homes. Sabrina, 
feeling herself challenged, answered deliberately: 

“You are morbid.” 

“ If you are proud of it, I’ve nothing more to say. 
Anyway, you would be bored to tears at Trigg Court.” 

“ I shouldn’t. I’d like to wallow at Trigg Court. 
They have a chef , and they breakfast at ten. The lawn 
slopes to the river. I should lie in a punt, and listen 
to the bees droning. I should wear our prettiest hats 


THE PALADIN 


79 


as an 4 ad.’ I should reflect with complacency that I 
might be reading aloud to Mrs. Trigg’s aged aunt, or 
lying at the bottom of the Thames ! ” 

“ Morbid again ! ” 

“ Even Mrs. Trigg’s talk would entertain me, be- 
cause it enhances the value of yours.” 

“ If you won’t go to Trigg Court, go to J ericho 
or Bath. I’ll hold the fort till you return.” 

Finally, a coin was spun to decide which of the two 
should take their holiday first. Esther won. Fate de- 
creed also that Miranda Jagg felt the necessity of 
fresher air than could be obtained at an open window 
near Covent Garden. She offered herself as chaperon, 
and spoke joyously of shrimps at Margate. 

“ Did you take a holiday last year? ” demanded the 
suspicious Esther. 

“ No, my dear.” 

“The year before?” 

“ My dear, don’t force me to make humiliating con- 
fessions.” 

“You are doing this on my account?” 

“What cheek!” 

“ Call it instinct. At any rate I accept gladly. 
Margate for ever ! ” 

“For a fortnight,” said Miranda. 

The pair flitted a few days later, leaving Sabrina 
with a crate full of new “ shapes ” from Paris, and the 
as yet unsolved problem : “ What will be worn next 

October? ” Miranda, prattling of shrimps and min- 
strels and the brandyballs, which she had eaten as a 
little girl, at the very time when she appeared as 


80 


THE PALADIN 


Puck in the famous production of the “ Midsummer 
Night’s Dream,” by her grandfather, Charles James 
Bean, did not notice at first that Esther was unduly 
silent. But a jest of the illustrious comedian being 
received with nothing more appreciative than an ab- 
sent-minded stare, Miss Jagg said sharply: “What 
on earth’s the matter, child? ” 

“ A funny thing happened yesterday : Sabrina 
fainted.” 

“ Pish ! ” (Miranda used this archaic exclamation 
because it was often in the mouth of Charles James.) 
“ That’s nothing ! When I was a girl it was con- 
sidered genteel to faint. We practised fainting. The 
heroines fainted when the hero proposed.” 

“ It was very stuffy yesterday.” 

“ Sabrina is strong. Don’t worry about her.” 

“ She overdoes. Every night she’s dog tired.” 

“Who isn’t? Workers ought to be tired. I gen- 
erally crawl into bed, foundered; and I’m so stiff in 
the morning that I wish I’d died in the night. But 
after my rasher and a couple of eggs life seems worth 
living again.” 

“ Sabrina has tea and toast.” 

“ I’m very sorry to hear it. You’re not that sort 
of fool, are you?” 

“ I can look an egg in the face, not a rasher.” 

“ Fainted, did she? Not like her, I must say.” 

“ She was furious with herself, and with me for 
fussing.” 

“ Don’t let’s fuss now ! Do you think you could eat 
a gingerbread nut ? ” 


THE PALADIN 81 

“ I’d rather not try,” said Esther. She added re- 
flectively : “ Sabrina will report to-morrow.” 

Next day, a cheery letter melted the tiny cloud in 
Esther’s sky. And during the whole of her holiday 
the sun blazed uninterruptedly upon just and unjust 
in Margate. Miranda and Esther bathed, and sat on 
the sand, and listened to the minstrels. Afterwards, 
Esther was perfectly happy. Miranda had been so 
wise in her selection of Margate instead of a fashion- 
able watering-place. The world that works goes to 
Margate to play. Elderly men may be seen paddling 
and building castles in the sand. Esther knew that 
she belonged to this mirth-making, mirth-loving 
crowd, whose laughter was so unmistakably sincere. 
Miranda, too, was of the people. The illustrious 
grandfather had been known to drop an “ h ” or two — 
off the stage! But above and beyond everything else 
was the supreme, soul-satisfying delight of knowing 
that she was in the crowd and not under it, ruthlessly 
crushed and trampled upon! She had held her own, 
and more than her own. Even Mrs. Rockingham Trigg 
had admitted that selling hats, if you sold enough, 
might be a more interesting if less respectable occupa- 
tion than reading the Times aloud to an aged lady in 
Eaton Place. 

Sun and air did more than colour her too pale com- 
plexion. The delicate tissues of the mind assumed a 
healthier tint. The slightly morbid taint was hidden 
by the tan. 

“ I never felt so strong,” she told Miranda at the 
end of the first week. 


82 


THE PALADIN 


“Good! We women need every ounce of strength 
we can come by. Have some more shrimps? ” 

“ Nothing frightens me,” said Esther. 

“ You stood on your chair yesterday when a mouse 
ran across the room.” 

“ I am speaking, of course, of moral things. A 
mouse or a tiger will always terrify me. I used to have 
exactly the same sort of horror of disease and dirt 
and ignorance, but now I am almost spoiling for a 
fight.” 

“ You are pot-valiant. My grandfather used to 
say that he acted best when he was full of beef and 
beer.” 

“ That sounds horribly gross.” 

“ My dear, life, real life, is a gross affair. Let us 
admit it frankly. Most of the great men and women 
of action have not succeeded from being over-squeam- 
ish or underfed.” 

“ The God in them, not the animal, triumphed. If 
you mean the truly great.” 

“ But the animal in them, my dear, enabled them 
to subdue the same beast in others.” 

“ They had to conquer the beast in themselves be- 
fore they conquered the beast in others.” 

“ That’s it.” 

“ There’s a horrid little pig in me, Miranda. If I 
make bacon of him ” 

“ You will always have a rasher to offer to a 
friend.” 

The piping hours passed swiftly. Esther found her- 
self wondering what her holiday would have been like 
without a companion. Comradeship had become a 


THE PALADIN 


83 


necessity. Her two friends were essentially comrades, 
endued with qualities of fortitude, good temper and 
humour. At the first glimpse of Miranda in pink 
dressing-gown and carpet slippers, our heroine had 
experienced a not disagreeable thrill of superiority. 
Now, Miranda occupied a pedestal. Sabrina, too, 
stood upon a mountain top, with her head against the 
stars. Esther’s thoughts seldom wandered as far as 
The Hague, but, in a sense, the memory of what Harry 
had been (and of what he had not been) kept other 
men at arm’s length. Three youths had approached 
within measurable distance. Measured by Sabrina, 
they had been dismissed. Sabrina carried tape and 
foot rule. You might have supposed her an accredited 
judge at a dog show. Points were seriously considered ; 
a good coat and markings served rather to emphasise 
a too weak back or a tucked-in-tail. Young women in 
large expensive hats brought their “ boys ” to the hat 
shop. Sometimes the boys paid overdue accounts, but 
as a rule this seemed to be the special privilege of the 
middle-aged and elderly. You can’t pick and choose 
your customers, but you can criticise them. A year 
in the hat shop had taught Esther more about human 
nature than a decade spent in Palace Gardens. Harry 
might have said that the bloom was off, but he would 
have been mistaken. The bloom remained, cherished 
by Sabrina. Esther believed herself to be a woman ; 
Sabrina knew her to be still a child, because, despite 
the daily, hourly, revelation of meanness, greed, lust, 
snobbishness, and dishonesty, she remained enthusias- 
tically the optimist, beholding things and people as 
she wished them to be instead of as they were. 


84 


THE PALADIN 


Esther returned to the hat shop, dropping Miranda 
and her shabby trunk in Covent Garden. 

Sabrina smiled at rosy cheeks and embrowned hands. 

“ I’m ready for anything,” declared Esther. 

“ Are you? ” said Sabrina, still smiling. 

“ Have you decided where you’re going? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Where? ” 

“ I’ll tell you when we get home. Come and look 
at the autumn hats.” 

The amount of work done astonished Esther, but 
when she said so, Sabrina muttered : “ I was alone. 

I had to work. I had a stock-taking too.” 

“ A stock-taking — why ? ” 

“ I wanted to know just how we stood. Yirot be- 
lieves that fur will be used as a trimming this winter. 
I have bought a lot of it very cheap.” 

“ You look awfully ” 

“Yellow,” said Sabrina, calmly. 

“ Well, sallow.” 

“ If fur is worn we shall have a pretty balance sheet 
at Christmas.” 

They talked “ shop ” till closing time. 

That night they dined. As a rule, they supped, sim- 
ply and inexpensively. Mrs. Willet had been a cook in 
a noble family, before Willet, a butler in the same 
family, had led her to the altar and thence to the 
dingy street near Mecklenburg Square. Her hand had 
lost some of its cunning with sauces, but she could 
grill a sole and baste a grouse. Upon the table were 
roses, and candles in petticoat shades to match them. 


THE PALADIN 85 

“ How cosy! ” said Esther. “ It is jolly to be home 
again.” 

She glanced affectionately from Sabrina to the fa- 
miliar bookcase and the divan piled high with cushions. 
The room had become sanctuary to both of them. 

At dinner, Esther sparkled, having the knack of 
vivid description. Margate was presented enveloped 
in a mist of amber and rose. 

“ I wallowed,” said Esther, with a flying allusion to 
the piglet in her. 

Sabrina made the coffee. 

“ And now — about yourself? ” 

“ Let me light up first.” 

Esther curled herself up among the cushions. 

“ 1 feel like a cat who has had an extra allowance 
of cream.” 

“ Don’t!” 

“ Don’t what ? ” 

“ Don’t purr! It makes it hard for me.” 

“Gracious! What has happened?” 

“ I am going to take my holiday in a private hos- 
pital.” 

In an instant Esther was off the divan and on her 
knees beside her friend, holding her hand, glancing 
anxiously up into her face. In the distance the light 
from the candles seemed to grow dim. Something 
monstrous invaded the pretty room, a chill shadow de- 
scended like a black fog. 

“ They are not quite sure what it is,” said Sabrina 
in her soft voice, “ but they are going to find out.” 

“ Going to — to operate? ” 


86 


THE PALADIN 


44 Yes. Don’t tremble, Esther, and for God’s sake 
don’t cry! I want all my own courage, and all that I 
can borrow.” 

44 I won’t cry,” said Esther, but the tears rolled down 
her cheeks. 

44 I have made the arrangement,” Sabrina continued 
in the same soft tone. 44 There is a nursing home not 
very far from here. The matron is a good sort. Your 
doctor is going to operate.” 

“ My doctor? ” 

44 Harvey Napier.” 

44 What a strange coincidence ! ” 

44 Not at all. I liked his face in that picture. I 
went to him.” 

There was a pause. Then Esther whispered : 44 Have 
you told your husband? ” 

44 No. He might be playing in a competition.” 

44 They will let me nurse you.” 

44 Certainly not. But you will visit me — afterwards.” 

44 Is it — er — a very d-d-dangerous operation ? ” 

44 They call it 4 capital.’ To a surgeon, I suppose, 
it is cauital. I caught a gleam in Mr. Napier’s 
eye.” 

44 If I see that, I shall loathe him.” 

44 He has been very kind. I asked him what was in 
the test tube. You remember how curious we were. 
He laughed and said 4 Water ’ ! ” 

44 Water?” 

44 1 asked him what he was really looking at. And 
he laughed again, and said an alkaloid that so far 
had eluded him. He plays hide and seek with the 


THE PALADIN 


87 


vegetable poisons. I’m interested in him, but lie’s a 
machine. Some day he may become a man. Do you 
mind if we talk of something else ? ” 

44 When do you go to the nursing home? ” 

44 To-morrow afternoon.*’ 

44 Sabrina, you have worked too hard.” 

44 No; I asked that question. It would have come 
anyway. Tell me about Miranda. Did she wear her 
dressing-gown on the sand? ” 

44 That we should have been laughing and chattering 
when you were alone with — this ! ” 

44 1 wanted you to laugh and chatter. When I look 
at you I smell the sea. The sand is still in your hair 
— and the sunshine.” 

44 1 can’t bear it,” said Esther hoarsely. 44 1 can’t 
bear it.” 

44 But you must,” Sabrina replied. 

They went to bed late. Esther unpacked her box, 
and put away her clothes, eyeing them with repug- 
nance. She had hardly finished when Sabrina came in. 

44 I’m going to brush the sand out of your hair,” she 
announced. 

Esther sat down. Sabrina brushed her hair, and 
then plaited it. Esther was sensible that some subtle 
strength was passing from Sabrina to herself. Her 
head, which had ached horribly, became cool and free 
from pain beneath the touch of her friend’s hand. 
Courage flowed into her, banishing terror and sooth- 
ing racked nerves. And Sabrina’s silence, so dignified, 
became significant. What could be said in alleviation 
of a blow so sudden and cruel? Nothing. 


88 


THE PALADIN 


“ You have beautiful hair, Esther.” 

They were the first words. 

“ So Harry said.” 

His name slipped from her lips. She was not think- 
ing of the preux chevalier. 

“ Harry ! I had forgotten your Harry.” 

“ Not mine.” 

“ If you whistled, he would come to you.” 

“Would he? I shall not whistle.” 

“ If you wanted him very badly, you would 
whistle.” 

“ My whistle would frighten him now.” 

Sabrina said no more. 

When she had gone Esther went to bed, but she 
couldn’t sleep. And she dared not blow out the candle. 
Darkness had never terrified her since she was a child. 
She listened. The walls were thin, and Sabrina oc- 
cupied the next room. Presently she heard a faint 
scratching. Sabrina was writing. Esther slipped from 
the bed and tapped softly at her friend’s door. 

“ Come in ! ” 

Sabrina sat at a table, writing. 

“ I can’t sleep without asking you a question.” 

“ Ask it.” 

Esther crossed, laying her hand upon Sabrina’s 
shoulder. 

“Are you afraid, Sabrina?” 

“ I think not. Not afraid of death, if you mean 
that.” 

“ I should be horribly afraid. What a coward I 


THE PALADIN 89 

Sabrina stood up and took Esther’s face between 
her two hands, gazing at it. 

“ I am afraid of life,” she answered quietly. 

Esther returned to her bedroom, Sabrina to her 
writing. She wrote on steadily for nearly an hour; 
then she went to Esther’s door and listened with bended 
head till her ears caught the sound of measured breath- 
ing. She opened the door and, shading the flame of 
the candle she carried, approached the bed. Esther 
lay like a child who has cried itself to sleep after 
restless tossings. The pillow was pulled down and 
crumpled; the bedclothes were flung to one side; her 
eyelashes were still wet; and one hand was tightly 
clenched; the other, in significant contrast, showed the 
pink palm and relaxed fingers. 

The sun-kissed cheeks glowed against the whiteness 
of the pillow. The red lips, just parted, revealed the 
small, even teeth. In repose the charm and the weak- 
ness of the face made a poignant appeal to the woman 
gazing at her friend, whom she had learned to love 
better than anyone else in the world. 

Esther slept — and smiled in her sleep, hearing per- 
haps the splash of the waves upon the sand, and the 
laughter of the children. Sabrina, in her place, would 
have lain awake. But Nature is kind to her weaklings. 
Esther had sunk into this sweet slumber because physic- 
ally and mentally she was exhausted. She tired easily. 

The strong woman, who did not tire easily, sighed. 
“ Am I afraid?” she was asking herself, and the an- 
swer came quickly, “ Not for myself, but for her.” 


CHAPTER VII 


MIRANDA CONSULTS THE CARDS 

Each time they passed the nursing home Miranda and 
Esther would pause, staring with wrinkled foreheads 
at the window upon the second floor, which was wide 
open. They could see the bunch of roses which Mi- 
randa had brought with her, and above it a curtain of 
white cheese-cloth showed bulgingly, blown outward by 
the draught. The bed therefore was still empty, 
awaiting the tenant, who lay senseless in the operating- 
room. When the curtain ceased to bulge this first 
period of dreadful suspense would terminate. The 
watching women would feel at liberty to re-enter the 
house and ask for news. During a terrible hour and 
a half they had paced the quiet street, and other 
streets in the immediate neighbourhood, never stray- 
ing very far. Poor Miranda panted. Her normal 
exercise was taken intermittently: this everlasting 
tramping exhausted her. 

They stared at other windows. This house of pain 
was gaily decked as if for a festival. Fresh £aint, 
flowers, gleaming brass, smote the eye with a stunning 
sense of incongruity. At one of the windows a nurse 
was standing. She was dressed in virginal blue and 
white; she looked as fresh as dew; her face exhibited 
a placidity and serenity quite amazing. 

“ I should hate to be a nurse,” said Esther fiercely. 

90 


THE PALADIN 


91 


“ It’s well paid,” said Miranda. “ You would make 
a splendid nurse,” she added, after a pause, “ and look 
the part, too.” 

“That one is quite fatly contented. I declare she 
has a dimple.” 

“ If I were dying,” said Miranda, “ I should like to 
look at a dimple.” 

Very slowly they walked the length of the street 
and back again. The interminable minutes indicated 
the increasing gravity of the case. The matron had 
hinted at an hour; nearly two had elapsed. 

“ There ! ” exclaimed Esther excitedly. 

The white curtain no longer bulged. 

They crossed the street hurriedly. Esther pressed 
the electric bell. The nurse who opened the door said 
in an expressionless voice, “Mr. Napier will see you.” 

At once pangs pierced the friends. If the operation 
had been successful, surely this woman would know it. 
Her seeming indifference must mask horrors. 

“ She is all right? ” faltered Esther. 

“ Miss Lovell has just been carried upstairs. She 
will come to in half an hour. This way, please.” 

They were shown into a pleasant sitting-room, 
furnished with taste and discretion. Here the matron 
greeted them with courtesy. She stopped Esther’s 
questions with a phrase : “ I know nothing ; Mr. 

Napier will be here in a couple of minutes.” With pro- 
fessional acuteness she turned to Miranda, still gasp- 
ing. “Can I offer you something — a cup of tea?” 

“ A small whisky and soda, please,” said Miss J agg. 

“ Certainly.” 


02 


THE PALADIN 


She went to the door and whispered the order. 
Esther felt impressed and soothed by her massive com- 
posure and general appearance of robustness and im- 
maculate cleanliness. The very sight of her was 
antiseptic. She aroused curiosity. Esther knew her 
name — Tower, and nothing more. The nurse had 
spoken of her as Mrs. Tower, but she might have as- 
sumed brevet rank. And the name also might be 
assumed. It was so pat to her occupation and individ- 
uality; a tower, indeed! The house belonged to her. 

“ Is she fatly content, too?” thought Esther. 

The friends sat down, but Mrs. Tower stood — solid 
from head to foot. One could not conceive her young 
or old. She might have been made to order, approved 
by the College of Surgeons, and secured monument- 
ally, in her present position. Her eyes, of a cool grey 
in tint, were small and steadily watchful. Nothing 
escaped their penetrating vigilance. Her hands were 
beautifully shaped; exquisite instruments wherewith to 
execute specialised work; her touch might be heavy 
or light as down, never clumsy. Her mouth seemed to 
be fashioned by the artist who supplies lips to the 
high priests of the Roman Catholic Church. Wise 
counsel flower from it, cooling common-sense, but never 
an indiscreet or tactless word. 

A quick step was heard upon the tiled corridor out- 
side, the door opened, and Napier entered. 

“ Miss Yorke — Miss Jagg — Mr. Napier.” 

The surgeon bowed. He looked, physically, very 
frail and thin, being undersized. His shoulders had a 
stoop. But his fine head challenged and held attention. 


THE PALADIN 


93 

“ How is your patient ? ” she exclaimed. 

“ The operation has been successful.” 

“ Thank God ! Thank God ! ” 

“ It was much more severe than I anticipated.” 

His grave tone alarmed both women. Miranda 
opened her mouth and closed it. Esther said 
tremblingly, “ But the worst is over? ” 

“ It is too early to say anything.” Then in a harsh 
voice, tempered by sympathetic inflections, he added, 
66 We have met before, Miss Yorke? ” 

« Yes.” 

66 Where ? Forgive the question.” 

“ In Piccadilly Circus. You thought I was ill. You 
put me into a hansom.” 

“ I remember the incident perfectly.” 

<fi Can I see my friend this afternoon ? ” 

“ Impossible. The shock to the system has been 
very great. The day after to-morrow, perhaps. I 
can’t promise.” 

He hurried away to perform another operation else- 
where. 

“ Is he very clever? ” Esther murmured to Mrs. 
Tower. 

“ In these cases the cleverest in London. We shall 
do our best for Miss Lovell; and her courage is quite 
out of the ordinary. That is in her favour. Try 
not to worry.” 

They waited an hour till word came that Sabrina 
had regained consciousness. Then they drove in a 
cab to Miranda’s rooms. Her classes did not begin for 
a couple of days, so they had the large saloon — as 


94 


THE PALADIN 


Miranda called it — to themselves. They tried to choke 
down some food. After luncheon Miranda played a 
game of patience. In vital affairs she consulted the 
cards, being as superstitious as any member of her pro- 
fession. Nothing would have induced her to begin 
rehearsing for a n$w piece on a Friday; and a black 
cat rubbing against her made her feel ten years younger. 
She shuffled and cut the cards three times, wishing 
fervently that Sabrina might regain high health. If 
the patience came out properly her friend might be 
expected to make a complete recovery; if a grace or 
two were needed, convalescence would be slow and diffi- 
cult ; if the cards failed entirely, then ! 

Esther watched her, fascinated by Miranda’s ridicu- 
lous faith in painted pasteboard. The whole scene was 
fantastic, unreal. The upper end of the room was 
arranged formally for a scene out of a modem comedy. 
Two chairs and a table down left; a settee up right; 
windows centre. Hanging on pegs were different prop- 
erties ; a couple of foils ; a long black cape lined with 
faded red silk, a couple of wigs upon blocks, and a 
stimulating steel engraving of Charles James Bean 
as the Young Roscius. In a cabinet were fans, snuff- 
boxes, a velvet mask, and the famous helmet which 
Charles James had worn in the part of Coriolanus. 
Against the cabinet, distinguished and jaunty, leaned 
a Malacca cane, with a knot of puce-coloured riband. 
Miranda had inviolate rules concerning the 66 nice con- 
duct of a clouded cane.” 

Presently Esther’s attention wandered. She did not 
understand this particular patience ; and Miranda 


THE PALADIN 


95 


played with exasperating deliberation, staring at each 
card as if it were bewitched. At the end of half an 
hour only a few cards were left in her hand. She 
glanced furtively at Esther, drooping despondently 
over a dramatic paper. Perspiration stood in beads 
upon Miranda’s forehead. The patience — grace or 
no grace — was not coming out. For a moment her 
plump pretty hand hovered hesitatingly over the cards 
already played. Then, with a second furtive glance 
she swiftly extracted a vile knave who insisted on 
remaining where he was not wanted, and a miserable, 
insignificant deuce, who had played the deuce, indeed, 
from the beginning. These she replaced in other rows, 
and then said in ,a tone that proclaimed the actress 
of genius : 

“ My dear, come here and see how nicely it works 
out.” 

Esther obeyed with alacrity, willing to persuade her- 
self that this straw served to indicate the direction of 
the current. Miranda, smiling blandly, played the 
remaining cards to a successful issue. 

“ And it’s a difficult patience ? ” asked Esther. 

“ Very.” 

Miranda removed her spectacles, and turned her 
chair, exposing an ample lap. Esther sat down on it. 

“ Do you really believe in the cards ? ” 

Miranda nodded. 

“ How warm you are ! ” 

“ A minute ago it seemed absolutely certain that it 
would not come out.” 

Esther looked at a presentation clock, a handsome 


96 THE PALADIN 

affair. Three hours had passed since they left the 
nursing home. 

“ I can inquire at four. You will stay here.” 

“I think I shall try another patience.” 

“ For mercy’s sake, don’t. It’s nonsense, of course, 
but let us leave well enough alone.” 

“ Mrs. Tower promised to wire if there was any 
change.” 

“ If you had a telephone ” 

“ There is one in the typewriting office downstairs. 
I’ll go.” 

“Let me.” 

Miranda could be very firm on occasion. “ They 
know me, my dear. You stay here.” 

Outside on the landing one could hear plainly the 
ticking of the machines in the room below, where half 
a dozen girls were working furiously. In another room 
two girls were reading script aloud, with eyes alert 
for blunders. The principal sat at her desk. The tele- 
phone stood beside her. 

“ May I use your ’phone? ” 

“ With pleasure, Miss Jagg.” 

The two were on friendly terms, for Miranda had 
opportunities of throwing work to the typist. Some 
of the girls in the adjoining room had hoped to play 
upon the boards of a London theatre instead of on 
a writing-machine. From the Thespian heights above 
they had descended. Only one young lady had 
ascended. She was still spoken of as the shining ex- 
ception ; and her picture postcard adorned the wall 
above the instrument she had used. 


THE PALADIN 


97 


66 One moment, young ladies.” 

The girls, reading aloud, paused as Miranda took 
up the telephone. They did not suspect that any- 
thing dramatic was taking place, but they eyed Miss 
Jagg with interest lightened by amusement. To them 
it was excruciatingly funny to think that the “ old 
dear” had played Juliet. 

“ I beg your pardon,” stammered Miranda. 

The telephone had crashed from her trembling fin- 
gers onto the desk. The three women — each a bundle 
of overworked nerves — jumped up, startled out of their 
wits. Nor did Miranda’s white, twisted face serve to 
calm them. 

In answer to three excited exclamations, Miranda 
answered tremulously : “ I have had bad news. Miss 

Lovell — you remember Miss Lovell who was with me 
— had to undergo a dreadful operation this morning. 
I have just heard that she is — dead. She sank quietly 
of collapse.” 

The three girls burst into tears. Miranda’s eyes 
were dry. 

“ I must go upstairs,” she said feebly. Nobody no- 
ticed that she spoke and moved like an old woman, 
but the principal accompanied her, whispering a few 
words of sympathy. 

“ You are very kind,” said Miranda, in the same 
curiously feeble voice, (i but leave me now, please.” 

She opened the door of the saloon, and went in with 
her tragic message plain upon her face. Esther rose 
and ran to her, supporting her to the settee upon which 
so much comedy had been played. Miranda sank 


98 


THE PALADIN 


upon it, stammering out the truth. Esther exclaimed: 
46 1 can’t believe it ! I can’t believe it ! ” 

She looked wildly round her, as if entreating the 
familiar objects to speak, to contradict this outrage- 
ous statement. Then she saw the cards, neatly ar- 
ranged in eight little packets. She pointed at them. 

46 They lied!” 

44 No,” said Miranda sorrowfully, 44 1 cheated.” 

To Mrs. Tower, Sabrina had given three letters, to 
be delivered in the event of her death. The first and 
longest was addressed to her husband. It is likely 
that she expressed sincere regret for the blundering 
marriage in which, you may be sure, she accepted more 
than half the responsibility. Esther saw Tom at the 
funeral, a sturdy, gentleman-farmer-looking sort of 
person (Esther’s description), with a red-brown, 
woodeny face, quite expressionless. Such men are not 
to be despised or underestimated. Many of them stood 
shoulder to shoulder when England’s greatest battles 
were fought and won. Pioneers are made out of just 
such stuff. Undoubtedly he had the phlegmatic tem- 
perament of the successful golfer. He followed his 
wife, dry-eyed, to her grave in the pretty country 
churchyard where she had expressed a wish to be buried. 
And he said to Esther: 

44 She was a good sort, too good for me, but I 
never understood her — never ! ” 

The pathos of these blunt words moved Esther, not 
him. She recognised the type, common amongst Eng- 
lishmen, of the husband who never does or can under- 
stand his wife, unless she happens to think precisely 


THE PALADIN 


99 


as he does upon matters vital to their unity and mutual 
happiness. Esther wondered whether he would marry 
again. Miranda predicted that he would, because he 
owned a small manor, and must deem it a duty to beget 
a son and heir. After some years he did marry — his 
cook — a young, pretty, and quite respectable person. 

The second letter reached Miranda upon the evening 
of the day when Sabrina died. It was very short : 

Dear Miranda. — Keep an eye on Esther. With a little help 
she will learn to stand alone, without it she may tumble down. 
Do you remember teaching me to walk? Teach her. She wants 
to run. 

Good-bye, my dear old friend, and God bless you! 

Yours ever, 

Sabrina. 

Miranda placed the letter with a sprig of lavender 
in her desk, amongst other letters which she read from 
time to time, but she muttered to herself : “ If Esther 
runs, how am I, a waddling old woman, going to 
catch her? ” 

The third letter was for Esther. We priiyt it re- 
luctantly because it reveals the side of Sabrina which, 
during her lifetime, she hid from everybody: 

My dearest Esther, — Some instinct tells me that I must leave 
you, at the moment when you most need a friend. Against my 
will, you made me love you. It is a great power, the greater 
because exercised unconsciously in your case. Miranda, whom a 
hard life has turned into rather a selfish old woman, loves you, 
but not as I do. I go gladly, sorry only because I leave you 
alone to fight against odds which I can measure and you can’t. 

I have willed to you my interest in our business. It is worth 
more than I thought. Not considering a few bad debts, which 


100 


THE PALADIN 


I have marked in the ledger with a red cross, you could, if you 
would, sell out, and find yourself with enough to bring in a 
small income. But I fear you will not sell out. Nor have you 
the experience necessary to select an honest partner, cut to my 
pattern. You will insist on paddling your own canoe, because 
you are you. 

I like the matron of this nursing home, to whom I shall give 
this letter, and I have spoken to her of you. If you were in 
dire trouble, you might do worse than go to her. She wouldn’t 
gush, but I have the feeling she might do something. Bear her 
in mind. Then there is Miranda. Stick to her. She went to 
Margate on your account. My going will affect her, because 
she knows how much it will affect you. She is a pagan, but 
she walks straighter than many a Christian. 

I have never spoken much of my life before we met, and it is 
too late to do so now. The words of a simple little song keep 
coming into my mind; they were written by a woman, who set 
them to music: 

“ Think of me then as one who — much forgiven — 

Must needs love much, and fain would love still more. 
Think of the rest to one who long has striven 
’Gainst wind and tide to reach the farther shore.” 

Perhaps the farther shore is nearer than we think. I hope so. 

Your faithful friend, 

Sabrina. 


BOOK II 


CHAPTER Vm 

THE PALADIN’S QUEST 

Two years later, our paladin returned to his native 
land to enjoy a few months’ leave before his transla- 
tion to another sphere, or rather hemisphere, of mas- 
terly inactivity. He had been appointed First 
Secretary at Buenos Ayres. 

Lady Matilda, with her tender hand straying 
amongst his curls, rejoiced because the dear boy had 
changed so little; but he told her that he was con- 
scious of change within. To her dismay he refused to 
sleep in Pont Street, although he promised on his 
honour to lunch there frequently. He took rooms in 
a snug by-street near Pall Mall and the clubs, to one 
of the more exclusive of which he had been elected a 
member. 

Three days after his arrival in England he made a 
discovery which moved him profoundly: Sabrina et 
Cie. had been swept from the Post Office Directory. A 
complaisant fishmonger furnished crumbs of informa- 
tion. One of the ladies was dead, and the other had 
been sold up — lock, stock, and barrel. The reason? 
Harry asked the question fiercely. Bad debts ! Thou- 
sands of pounds that couldn’t be collected from the 
swells ! Miss Yorke — that was the young lady’s name 
— had certainly “ gone it a bit.” She’d supplied all 
101 


102 


THE PALADIN 


the hats — a hundred at least — in that big production 
at the Calliope Theatre, which came to grief in less 
than a month. Harry sped to Pont Street, presenting 
his question as if it were a pistol. 

“ Where is Esther? ” 

“What Esther? ” 

“ Good heavens ! Esther Yorke ! ” 

“ My dear, I’ve not seen her for an age.” 

“ She’s been sold up. Did you knpw it? You did? 
And not a word to me? ” 

“ I thought it would pain you.” 

“ Did none of you stand by her? ” 

“ I was at Homburg at the time. I bought hats 
from her although her charges — to an old friend — were 
certainly excessive.” 

“Did Dorothea drop her?” 

“ I have always understood she dropped Dorothea.” 

“ I must find her.” 

“ My son, is that wise ? ” 

The paladin raised his voice to the author of his 
being. 

“ I loved her. You know that. I wanted to marry 
her, although I was tom in two, because I’d promised 
you to do nothing rash. She hinted with that odd little 
smile of hers that I’d marked time too long. I told 
her you’d come round; and she said you’d been round 
already.” 

Lady Matilda was frightened, but she stuck to her 
guns, and fired the biggest of them. 

“ What Captain Saladin hinted was true. Douglas 
Yorke never married the mother. She died abroad. 


THE PALADIN 


103 


Esther behaved very well; and we did stand by her. 
We made her little hat shop the fashion. Ask Mrs. 
Rockingham Trigg. Dear Constance Malplaquet was 
always buying hats.” 

46 Did Lady Malplaquet pay for them ? ” 

“ I suppose so. You are adopting a tone towards 
me, dear Harry, which hurts me very much.” 

She gazed at him yearningly, with tears trickling 
down her cheeks. Harry was touched. 

“ I beg your pardon,” he said contritely. “ I dare 
say she’s all right. A dear little girl like that couldn’t 
come to grief. And I ought to have written. Rut she 
twitted me once with not carrying out my threats. I 
put it plainly to her: the last word. Would she chuck 
me — or the stage? I lost a stone over the job. She 
refused to marry me five times, and yet she cared. I’ll 
swear she cared, the witch. Five times ! It nearly 
killed me.” 

“ My poor darling ! ” 

“ If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.” 

66 You are not going before luncheon. I’d ordered 
the mousse you like especially for you.” 

“ You’re the best mother in the world.” 

He stayed to luncheon and commended the mousse . 

After luncheon the quest began. Harry came of a 
fox-hunting race, and in the field he rode hard and 
straight, as his father had ridden, before he began to 
feel the effects of intemperance in all things. More- 
over, Camber Castle, as we know, is in the Quorn coun- 
try, where there is no pottering, no “ craning ” at 
<£ hairy ” fences, no crawling through woodlands. 


104 


THE PALADIN 


Harry spoke contemptuously of provincial packs. He 
hunted Esther in the same spirit with which he settled 
down in his saddle for a quick thing behind the fastest 
hounds in the kingdom. But there was no scent be- 
yond the fishmonger’s shop. Sabrina was dead, and 
the Cie, had disappeared, engulfed amongst six mil- 
lions. 

When this became certain Harry asked himself a 
pertinent question: “ Shall I go on?” Being an 
official, he did not question the possibility of finding 
Esther ultimately. But would it be the sweet alluring 
creature whom he had known and loved? As a man 
of the world, he told himself that she, the dimpled 
nymph, had disappeared for ever. The bloom must 
have been rubbed off* long ago. He had warned her; 
and in the teeth of his warning she had rushed off to 
visit Henry FitzRoy. 

The name inspired a happy thought. The one and 
only might know something about her. FitzRoy re- 
ceived him courteously. Yes, he remembered Miss 
Yorke quite well. He had advised her to try anything 
except the stage. And he had written a letter of in- 
troduction to Johnson, and given the young lady a 
card for Miranda Jagg. 

Next day our paladin presented himself at Miss 
Jagg’s Dramatic School, and asked for a private inter- 
view. Miranda did not impress him favourably, but it 
must be remembered that Harry had never seen her 
act, or teaching others to act. He perceived an old 
woman, lamentably untidy, wearing a dressing-gown 
at four in the afternoon, and carpet slippers. Her 


THE PALADIN 


105 


fingers were stained by nicotine; her grey hair was 
tousled; obviously she bad abandoned the wearing of 
stays. Harry put his first question: 

“ I am searching for Miss Esther Yorke. Do you 
know where she is ? ” 

“ I do not. I wish I did. She was a great friend 
of mine.” 

Harry winced, but he realised that he had been 
right. Oh, these mummers ! This fat old woman the 
friend of his own girl!!! But, having gone so far, 
he was the last man to draw back. Not quite hiding 
his disgust — for Miranda had a keen though slightly 
congested eye — he entreated details. Miranda stared 
at him; then she picked up his card, which lay, alas! 
on the floor amongst such loose company as cigarette 
ends. 

“ Good gracious ! Are you Harry ? ” 

Mr. Rye admitted, rather stiffly, that his Christian 
name was Henry. 

“ Once I asked her if there was a Jack, and she 
said there had been a Harry. You are he? ” 

He bowed, unable to speak. 

“ Sit down ! Smoke, if you like. Mr. Rye, if you 
ever cared for her, I’m your friend. But where on 
earth have you been all this time ? ” 

“At The Hague. I’m in the Diplomatic Service.” 

“ I see.” Her beady eyes twinkled. She saw every- 
thing, and understood. It speaks volumes for her in- 
telligence when we add that she became sorry for 
Harry, and overlooked, then and thereafter, the sur- 
face fault of superciliousness. And, of course, he was 


106 


THE PALADIN 


very handsome, unmistakably a swell. She compre- 
hended in a flash what had once puzzled her : Esther’s 
indifference to the young gentleman of the star class. 

“ If you cared for her, and if she cared for you — 
I suppose she did — eh? ” 

Harry inclined his curly head. 

“ What separated you? ” 

“ I asked her to marry me five times, Miss J agg. I 
did indeed.” 

His superciliousness dropped from him. The sym- 
pathy in Miranda’s face and in her incomparable voice 
was irresistible. 

“ How could she refuse you ? ” 

He smiled modestly, acknowledging the compliment. 
It was comforting to reflect that others beside himself 
were astounded at Esther’s uncompromising 66 No.” 
He found himself accepting one of Miranda’s cigarettes 
and lighting his and hers at the same match. With 
their heads close together, he added : “ I was poor, 

and my — er — people got at her. She said she would 
marry me when she had earned her own living. She 
was a bit — obstinate, you know.” 

“ Right you are ! Obstinate as a little mule.” 

“ What has become of her?” 

Miranda sighed; the fingers that held the cigarette 
trembled. 

“ Sabrina Lovell, her partner, asked me to keep an 
eye on her. But I’m a fat old woman, as you see. 
She ran away from me. I couldn’t keep up. I tried, 
Mr. Rye, I did, on my word.” 

“ I’m sure you did,” he said in his pleasant voice. 


THE PALADIN 


107 


“ After Sabrina’s death, she went it. You’ve ex- 
plained things. She wanted to make money to marry 
you. That’s quite plain — now.” 

She glanced at Harry maternally, and he told him- 
self that Miranda was the most understanding person 
he had ever met. 

“ The poor little dear couldn’t stand alone. Sabrina 
predicted it. A small success turned her head. Then 
the pendulum swung t’other way. I tried to put a 
spoke into her wheel. Useless! She was her father’s 
daughter. She sold everything — her pretty furniture, 
her trinkets, her furs* to keep that shop open ; but bad 
debts swamped her. Then ” 

“ Yes? ” 

“ She gave up her rooms in Bloomsbury. She lived 
with me for a bit. I got her an engagement to go on 
tour. The company bust up. She found herself 
stranded in Bristol without a farthing.” 

“ Good heavens ! ” 

“ 1 sent her enough money to get back to me ; she 
wrote a letter; you shall see it.” 

She crossed the big room, unlocked a desk, and took 
from it a letter. Harry saw that it was written upon 
cheap paper and with purple ink. And he perceived 
also that Esther’s handwriting had changed, not for 
the better. He read it, biting his lips : 

You Darling Old Thing, — I accept your money, but I won’t 
come back to live on you. I shall turn up with your money 
in my hand, and then I shall tell you what I think of you. 
What is in my box is worth five pounds. 


Esther. 


108 


THE PALADIN 


“ I have a box of hers full of clothes, but she never 
turned up,” said Miranda with a gulp. “ I advertised. 
I did what I could. I was very fond of her, Mr. Rye.” 

“ Perhaps she is dead? ” 

The starch was out of the fine gentleman. His eyes 
were wet, and when Miranda saw that, she took his hand 
in hers and patted it. 

“ I am sure she isn’t,” she whispered. 

<fi What reason have you for saying that? ” 

M I’m a superstitious old fool — always was. Don’t 
laugh at me ! I knew that Sabrina Lovell would die. 
One can’t explain these things. And I know that 
Esther is alive.” 

He groaned out : “ It might be better if she were 
dead.” 

“ She is not dead ; but if she ever comes for her 
box she will have five pounds in her hand.” 

He went away dazed. 

Nor did he recover quickly, although his mother 
poured oil and wine (the best in her cellar) into his 
wounds. She saw that he gazed at her with reproach 
in his blue eyes. Esther’s name was never mentioned. 
Lady Matilda knew that she had disappeared, and in 
her heart of hearts she may have hoped that the girl 
was dead. Dead or alive she stood between her boy and 
marriageable maidens of the right sort, whom he re- 
garded with cold eyes. To maidens of the wrong sort 
he was said to be less indifferent. He was seen sup- 
ping at the Savoy with Alice Godolphin, the mimic 
and dancer. Everybody knew that the lovely Alice 
was a good girl, but she was not the wife for a future 


THE PALADIN 


109 


ambassador. The anxious mother was told that her 
Harry drank more champagne than is considered neces- 
sary to slake an ordinary thirst. He began to lose his 
attractive youthfulness ; his skin became red instead of 

pink, his eyes less clear. 

Was he altogether his father’s son? Would he end 

like him? 

Then the unforeseen happened. Harry had employed 
a private detective to search for Esther. It was the 
right thing to do, and therefore he did it. Nor did 
he shrink from possibilities. In his own mind — and 
conscience — honour compelled him to hunt diligently, 
not for a wife, but for the woman who might have been 
his wife. If she had fallen to the depths, he would 
play his part as becomes an English gentleman. She 
presented a tremendous claim upon his consideration 
and his purse, because she was the girl he had loved. 
This thought was a real solace to him. Always he 
saw two Esthers : the sacrosanct maid who had made a 
hero of him, and the headstrong girl who had made that 
same hero feel uncommonly like an ass. Against the sec- 
ond Esther he bore a grudge. The grudge might be 
burnt out by heaping coals of fire upon a head once 
held too high and at the end brought low. 

The detective wired to his employer that Esther 
Yorke was found. The telegram ended with a some- 
what peremptory phrase : “ Meet me to-night, Black 

Swan, Southampton.” 

That night Harry was pledged to attend a gala 
performance at the Opera. Nevertheless, he travelled 
to Southampton, trying in vain to analyse his emotions, 


110 


THE PALADIN 


unable to determine what he should say or do when 
Esther and he met. The detective reported curtly : 

“ I found her ill, almost starving.” 

“ Did you mention my name ? ” 

“ I had no such instructions.” 

“ Quite right. How did you find her? ” 

A memorandum book was produced. Certainly the 
detective had earned a handsome cheque. He had be- 
gun at Bristol. With unerring skill and patience he 
had hunted through town after town, never losing 
faith in his ability to run his quarry to ground, dead 
or alive. When all the details were given, Harry said : 
“ Come back in half an hour. No chance of — of losing 
her again, is there? ” 

" She can hardly walk, poor thing ! ” 

The “ poor thing ” in the mouth of a paid servant 
hurt horribly. 

The half-hour that succeeded was memorable, inas- 
much as a duel was fought between a paladin and a 
First Secretary of Legation. Our diplomatists are 
very carefully trained nowadays. Peace with honour 
— that immortal phrase coined by the greatest phrase- 
maker of his generation — has become slightly shop- 
worn, although still admittedly serviceable, and honour 
is not lightly to be defined. Fortunately, everybody 
knows what peace it ; and the peace-at-any-price school 
enjoys an increasing popularity, particularly with 
those who have something to lose. The horrors of war 
have not been, and never can be, exaggerated. With 
this discursion, let us return to our paladin victorious 
over the First Secretary. Peace without honour slunk 


THE PALADIN 


111 


from the best inn’s best room. The First Secretary 
had been sorely tempted to return to London by the 
next train, leaving the detective with sufficient money 
to secure a poor thing from possibility of starvation. 
Let it never be forgotten that our Harry stayed, well 
knowing that horrors might confront him. 

He went alone to Esther’s lodging — a mean house 
in a mean street. A dreadful woman, leering, blear- 
eyed, gin-sodden, opened the door. Harry entered. 

44 1 want to speak to you alone,” he said. 

44 Right! You’re the gent as sent the ’tec?” 

He followed her into a room, the more terrible be- 
cause it seemed to be making some dying, convulsive 
attempt to appear respectable. In the window hung a 
card : Apartments. 

44 You ar$ Mrs. Plant? ” 

44 Yus, I’m Mrs. Plant. There’s nothink agen me, 
neither. If lodgers would pay up, I might be askin’ 
yer to sit down in a better chair than that.” 

44 Miss Yorke owes you money?” 

44 Two pun seventeen.” 

44 Here are three sovereigns. Can I see her? ” 

44 Why not? Walk up! Second floor back. She 
was a-sittin’ by the winder. She’ll go to bed early, 
because light comes expensive.” 

Harry shuddered. 

44 Perhaps she will see me here? ” 

44 1 dessay. What nyme? ” 

He hesitated. Suppose she refused to see him? Or 
if — he paled at the possibility — the mere mention of his 
name and his presence in such a house drove her to 


112 


THE PALADIN 


take that avenue of escape which led through the open 
window. 

“ I’ll go up,” he said. Upon the threshold of the 
room he turned and put the last question hoarsely: 

“What has she been doing to earn a living? ” 

“ Sewin’, chiefly — not much o’ that. She had a job 
in one of the big shops. They sacked ’er when ’er 
’ealth broke down, poor thing ! ” 

Again that hateful epithet, and this time in the 
mouth of a drunkard! 

Outside her door he hesitated again, but not for 
long. He pulled himself together, squaring his broad 
shoulders as he tapped on the rickety panel. 

“Come in.” 

The voice had not changed. He would have recog- 
nised it anywhere by reason of its fine quality, but it 
was attenuated in sound. He opened the door. 

“ Harry ! ” 

She tottered towards him — a wraith, so thin, so pale, 
so wretchedly clad that he exclaimed “ O God ! ” 

“ How did you find me ? Why have you come ? ” 

“ To take care of you,” he answered thickly. He 
had forgotten that these were the words he had used 
before; but the woman remembered. Was it possible 
that he had remained faithful? With a low cry she 
fell into his arms and fainted. He laid her on the 
pallet which served as sofa and bed. He put his ear 
to her bosom. Was she dead? 

A doctor was summoned to answer the question. 

Within twenty-four hours she was installed in com- 
fortable rooms overlooking the sea, and a trained nurse 


THE PALADIN 


113 


was In attendance. There seemed to be a possibility 
that she might lose her reason, for she remained, ap- 
parently, unconscious of the change in her condition, 
babbling incoherent phrases, bits of poetry which she 
had learned as a child, and lines out of parts she had 
played when on tour. Harry sat beside her, called 
her by name, took her hand; but she stared at him 
vacantly. When he said “Esther, don’t you know 
me? I’m Harry,” she would reply: “Poor Harry! 
I was fond of Harry once.” 

Why did she pity — him? He understood plainly 
enough that the adjective qualified the Harry she had 
known, not the First Secretary of Legation. 

The landlady of the lodgings by the sea, the nurse, 
and the doctor knew him as Mr. Browne. Asked sud- 
denly for a name, he had, on an impulse, given a false 
one. The landlady may have suspected this; but his 
insistence on the final “ e ” put to flight unworthy sus- 
picions. A ready wit is almost as good as ready 
money. And the lodgings were paid for in advance. 
Then he returned to town. 

It is significant that he did not communicate with 
Miranda. The disposition to mark time had become 
a habit with him. As a diplomat he had learned 
to put off till to-morrow what need not be done to- 
day. 

At the end of a fortnight the doctor said, when Harry 
ran down from London to see Esther: 

“ Have you noticed the change in her looks ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ She drinks milk like a baby, quarts of it. The 


THE PALADIN 


m 

body has responded to my treatment, but the mind 
is less amenable. How pretty she is ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Harry. 

“ If I were you, I should take her abroad. Prefer- 
ably, to France. A complete change may work won- 
ders and can do no harm.” 

“ I’ll think it over.” 

“ It’s so easy ; the boat for Havre leaves every night 
at twelve.” 

The suggestion ripened in his mind. In France no 
awkward questions were asked. He would be able to 
devote himself to the task of nursing Esther without 
encountering raised eyebrows and sly smiles. Already 
he excited curiosity. At any moment he might meet 
a friend, when he was walking beside Esther’s bath 
chair, for this gentle form of exercise had been pre- 
scribed. 

Esther had come to recognise him as a faithful at- 
tendant. She called him Mr. Browne, withholding the 
familiar Harry. She had the same smile for him, for 
the doctor, and for the nurse. 

“ How kind you all are ! ” she said. 

He had kissed her hand, lying thin and passive in 
his own. She made no attempt to withdraw it. Had 
he kissed her lips, she would have smiled and said 
“ Thank you.” 


CHAPTER IX 


THE PLEASANT LAND OF FRANCE 

Furtively — one dislikes to use such a word, but the 
truth must be told — our paladin slipped over to France 
and made a reconnaissance. By the luck of things 
he found a charming chalet overlooking the Seine, not 
far from Rouen, where he consulted a doctor, who ex- 
pressed lively interest in the case, and promised to se- 
cure a nurse. His English confrere had great right! 
Complete change of scene was to be commended. When 
would Madame arrive? Our paladin blushed, explain- 
ing that Madame was Mademoiselle; he thought he 
detected a twinkle in the doctor’s eye. 

“ I regard her as my sister,” he said austerely. 

“ Perfectly,” said the doctor with equal sobriety. 

“ She was to have been my wife, Monsieur le doc- 
teur.” The Frenchman bowed profoundly. 46 1 tell 
you this in confidence. She is ill and friendless. I 
have come to your charming country because in Eng- 
land my motives are likely to be misunderstood.” 

The doctor bowed again. Might he be allowed to 
compliment Monsieur upon his accent and his admir- 
able powers of expression? Also Monsieur was a man 
of heart. 

Our Harry unbent. He did speak French very well, 
and this little doctor was as understanding a person 
as Miranda Jagg. 


115 


116 


THE PALADIN 


A man of heart! 

The phrase warmed him to the core. He had given 
up first-class cricket, although he wore the Zingari 
riband round his panama hat. Yes — he had a heart 
and — and — viscera !! The world, his world, would 
laugh if they could see him playing nurse to a waif 
who had lost everything, including her memory; but 
this little Frenchman understood and bowed. It may 
have occurred to him that gentlemen of like kidney 
had fought at Crecy and Agincourt. From such foes 
one might accept defeat without a sense of humiliation. 
At the moment, too, the Channel Squadron was being 
entertained at Brest. The entente cor diale had been 
established. 

He took the chalet overlooking the Seine, engaged 
a couple of stout, rosy-cheeked Norman girls, added 
a few articles of furniture, and returned to South- 
ampton. 

Esther’s mental condition remained the same, but 
the terrible lines were fading out of her face. She 
greeted Mr. Browne with sweet effusion ; evidently she 
had missed him. Alone with her he whispered his 
plans. She clapped hands like a child. 

“France! How lovely! How kind you are, Mr. 
Browne ! ” 

“ I wish you would call me Harry, dear.” 

She regarded him seriously, a puzzled light in her 
hazel eyes. 

“ Oh, I couldn’t. I knew a Harry. Poor fellow ! 
I couldn’t call anybody else Harry. You mustn’t ask 
me.” 


THE PALADIN 


117 


“You would like to come to France with me?” 

“ I should simply love it.” 

Her hand slipped into his. 

The journey was accomplished easily. The English 
nurse accompanied her patient as far as Havre, where 
she was met by the French nurse and doctor. That 
evening they reached the chalet. It was called Mont 
Plaisir. And it had a history. A French artist had 
built it for the woman he loved. And here man and 
wife had lived tranquilly and happily for some three 
years, during which time the man’s best work had been 
accomplished. Then fame and fortune lured him to 
Paris ; and from that moment the fickle goddesses 
turned their backs on him. The poor fellow lost wife 
and health, and all appetite for work. The little doc- 
tor, who told the tale to our paladin, had seen him in 
Montmartre sipping absinthe, a scarecrow, haggard, 
ragged, indifferent to present or future, forever gaz- 
ing, with lacklustre eyes, into the mists of the past ! 

The garden which encompassed the chalet was charm- 
ing. Roses in wildest profusion bordered a terrace. A 
big chestnut tree overshadowed a small lawn. Beyond 
was an orchard with its crop of apples yet ungathered. 
In the early morning and evening one could smell the 
apples. From the terrace the ground, broken by moss- 
covered rocks, sloped sharply to the river. And of 
course there was a fountain, a miniature affair, but 
made of fine stone delicately carved: a trouvaille of 
the artist, who had found it in the courtyard of some 
ruined Renaissance chateau. From the mouth of Time, 
a bearded sage who supported a sun-dial, spouted a 


118 


THE PALADIN 


jet of clearest water, the bubbling moments of life tin- 
kling melodiously as they splashed into the basin be- 
neath, and overflowing in a tiny rivulet which trickled 
through the rocks to the river, and thence to the sea. 

Esther’s delight in the cottage, the fountain, the 
view of the river, the spires of Rouen, the rosy- 
cheeked handmaidens, was pleasant to behold. She 
slept like a baby. Our Harry slept well also, wonder- 
ing, as he laid his curly head upon his pillow, how 
many men of his upbringing would have risen ade- 
quately to such an occasion. 

We pass over two sunny weeks. Lady Matilda knew 
that her boy was abroad, and that letters addressed 
Poste Restante, Rouen, would reach him. When he 
disappeared from London, she wondered whether Miss 
Alice Godolphin would continue dancing at the Terp- 
sichore Theatre. She did. She danced every night of 
the month that Harry was in France. Balm, this, to 
a fond and anxious mamma! 

At the end of the fortnight Esther had become the 
counterfeit presentment of his own girl, whom he had 
never expected to see again in the flesh. And in a 
subtle, inexplicable way, our paladin was sensible that 
he had regained his youth. The simple life agreed 
with him vastly well. Except when engaged in field 
sports, he had always been of a slightly indolent dis- 
position. He liked to take things easy. The Hague, 
dear sleepy town, suited him. Buenos Ayres, the land 
of manana , would suit him even better, if his Chief 
were the right sort. 

He read aloud to Esther; he spent hours with her 


THE PALADIN 119 

upon the river; no brother could have been more de- 
voted to a sister. 

She called him “ Brownie.” 

But he never looked at her without reflecting that 
he had found her in a slum. Four years of her life 
were a sealed book! That she had lost reason at 
sight of him was a fact pregnant with horror. In her 
hollowed cheeks, before they were filled out by the good 
Normandy fare, he visualised nightmare imaginings. 

The little doctor began to shake his head. Made- 
moiselle might not find her memory. He cited cases. 
To all intents and purposes the Bon Dieu had assigned 
a new lease of life without reference to the old one. 
Certainly, she was of the most reasonable. It would 
be idiotic, impertinent, to describe her as insane. 
Physiologists would say that Mademoiselle exhibited 
an interesting illustration of double consciousness with 
a complete break between the past and the present. 

With a bitter-sweet shock, our Harry realised that 
he had become an object of supreme interest to her. 
In his absence the nurse remarked that she seemed 
unhappy and irritable. With him, alone or in com- 
pany, she was as gay and joyous as a child. Half of 
his leave had expired; in three months he must set 
sail for the Argentine. What then? 

One day he spoke of Miranda, of Sabrina, of her 
life in Palace Gardens. She listened attentively, with 
a puzzled, piteous expression. 

“ You make my head ache,” she said, and burst into 
tears. 

He kissed away the tears, soothing her gently. Was 


THE PALADIN 


120 

this taking advantage of a helpless girl? By no means. 
She was his dear little sister; she expected brotherly 
kisses from Brownie and she received them. 

To describe our paladin as gently stewing in his 
own juice is, perhaps, a vulgar metaphor, but it ex- 
presses the condition of affairs. Harry simmered, 
sometimes with satisfaction, often with apprehension, 
and Miranda — had she been in the kitchen — would 
have exclaimed : “ Here’s a pretty kettle of fish ! ” 

It is too painful to speculate upon what would have 
happened had Esther not recovered her memory, which 
came back, as it had gone, quite suddenly, and from 
the same cause: a shock. Harry and she were drift- 
ing down the river, when a boat ran into them, bow 
on, striking them amidships. Harry dragged an in- 
sensible woman to the bank. For the second time he 
thought she was dead: animation seemed to be sus- 
pended. She struggled back to life in her pretty room 
at the cottage, and opened her eyes to recognise Harry. 

“Where am I?” she asked feebly. 

“ I’m taking care of you,” he answered eagerly. 
“ Don’t worry.” 

“ But I can’t understand ” 

“ You mustn’t try to understand yet. Lie quiet ! 
You have been ill.” 

She stared at him with dilating pupils. Then she 
saw her own hand, and gasped out: 

“ Harry, that is not my hand.” 

“ Of course it is.” 

“How funny! It’s the hand I used to have.” 

He remembered the hands outstretched towards him 


THE PALADIN 


121 


in that mean lodging. They were claw-like, with 
needle-marks upon them. 

44 Esther, you’ve been ill for weeks, and now you’re 
well. But, for Heaven’s sake, keep quiet ! ” 

The doctor administered morphia, and she slept for 
nearly twelve hours, while our paladin wondered what 
he should say to her when she woke up. 

When they met, next day, his task was not made 
any the easier by the discovery that she had not the 
slightest remembrance of anything which had taken 
place since her first seizure, while everything preced- 
ing it had become perfectly clear. 

He explained, with admirable modesty, what he had 
done. She listened, the colour ebbing and flowing in 
her cheeks. Surprise feebly expresses her emotions. 
She was astounded and confounded, for she had seen 
herself in the glass before she joined him in the gar- 
den, and the nurse, you may be sure, had prattled en- 
thusiastically of Monsieur’s devotion and patience. In- 
deed, the doctor and she — romantic souls, both — had 
exchanged a word or two. Monsieur would marry his 
so sweet young Mees ! What a story ! What an 
ending, O mon Dieu! 

They sat side by side on the little rose-embowered 
terrace overlooking the Seine. The sun shone deli- 
cately through a lavender-grey haze: upon the water- 
meadows below a row of poplars cast translucent 
shadows where the cows were lying down: the river re- 
flected the mother-of-pearl tints of the sky. 

46 Does anybody know?” she asked. 

44 Not a soul. I thought of telling Miranda Jagg. 


m 


THE PALADIN 


Perhaps I ought to have done so. But I felt that 
even she might misapprehend my motives. And so I 
— well, I marked time.” 

The old expression struck her. She looked at him 
more critically. 

“Harry, why have you done all this for me?” 

“Why? My dear girl, what a question 1” 

“ A very natural one, I think.” 

“What sort of man do you suppose I am? I came 
back from The Hague to find you vanished. I simply 
had to find the woman I had asked to become my wife.” 

“ I see,” she said quietly. 

“ There is a fairly decent inn near here. I shall put 
up there till other arrangements can be made.” 

“ Why should you go ? ” 

“ I have been taking care of a child, not a young 
woman.” 

To cover an awkward moment, he picked a rose, and 
fastened it into her dress. 

“You bought me clothes?” 

“ The English nurse attended to that. Not a bad 
sort, but a gossip. The doctor suggested my bring- 
ing you here.” 

“ You are wonderful ! ” 

She tried to compute her debt to him, and failed. 
How could she repay him? ” 

“ We shall have dejeuner together, out here, under 
the chestnut tree, as usual.” 

“ As usual? ” 

“We have always breakfasted and dined under that 
tree.” 


THE PALADIN 


123 


She passed the hand he had given back to her across 
her forehead. 

“ It is a dream, Harry, a dream. And I remem- 
ber nothing ? ” 

“ Nothing. You were a jolly little kid. We had 
great larks together.” 

“ I almost wish I had not woke up.” 

“ Esther,” he said in a low voice, “ you are not 
strong yet. Please let things go on for a bit just 
as they are. You will do this, my dear, won’t 
you?” 

She answered “ Yes,” with a tender sparkle in her 

eyes. 

He noticed then and afterwards that her instant 
acceptance was meek. The burden of poverty, of a 
compulsory dependence upon others, the habit of obedi- 
ence ground into her when she was a shop girl — these 
had crushed her spirit. She looked at Harry with a 
piteous little smile upon her face, slightly deprecating, 
slightly derisive, which seemed to say: “Your word 
is law. Who am I, now , that I should impose my 
wishes or desires upon anybody ? ” 

Argentine, one of the rosy-cheeked girls, came out 
to lay the cloth for the mid-day meal. She brought 
long crisp rolls, golden butter, and cyder in glass de- 
canters. From the kitchen, hard by, was wafted the 
fragrance of a cunningly-compounded ragout. 

“ How hungry I am ! ” said Esther. Then she added 
seriously : “ And for six months I have not had a 

decent meal that I can remember.” 

Argentine beamed as she handed the omelette to 


124 THE PALADIN 

the beau Monsieur, and entreated Mademoiselle to try 
the good cyder. 

“ Quelle bonne sauce , V amour! ” Argentine said to 
Babette, who was mixing the salad. 

“ Qui fait le monde a la ronde ” quoted Babette. 

For a few days Esther accepted gratefully the sun- 
shine, the good food, the clean clothes. In a word, she 
gloated. But dominating every sense was the astound- 
ing revelation of our paladin’s loyalty and fidelity. The 
passion for these comes to most of us with advancing 
years, when, too late, alas ! we may realise, with what 
poignant self-reproach, that such transcendent quali- 
ties have not been appreciated or even apprehended. 
Esther, after the loss of father and fortune, had seen 
more than one old acquaintance suddenly afflicted with 
short sight when she approached. But Harry had re- 
mained faithful! 

Our paladin stuck to his resolution of sleeping at 
the inn: an observance of the proprieties warmly ap- 
proved by the little doctor, who himself, so he said, 
was of the most respectable. But very soon, Esther 
asked herself whither the primrose path was leading. 
Her forehead puckered distressfully whenever she 
thought of the future. Was Harry still her Harry? 
Being a paladin he held his tongue. A weaker or a 
stronger man might have said : “ Tell me everything. 

Has the worst that can happen to a woman happened 
to you? If so, as true friends, let’s face even that to- 
gether.” 

The worst, let us hasten to say, had not happened. 
Esther had been on the brink of the precipice more 


THE PALADIN 


125 


than once. Importunity had almost beguiled her. 
Sometimes she wondered how she had escaped. What 
power had sustained her when the darkness encom- 
passed her, when hunger tore at her vitals? At such 
awful moments she had thought of Sabrina — Sabrina 
who had starved, making the farther shore ’gainst wind 
and tide. 

She could read interrogation in Harry’s blue eyes. 

Did he love her still? Did she love him? Can 
women ask themselves such questions ? Do they not al- 
ways know? She divined that he loved her, but she 
could not measure his love. Estimated by what he 
had done, it seemed deep as the sea, high as heaven. 
Yes : he loved her, and he stood, the hero at last, upon 
the apex of the world’s pyramid of true lovers, high 
above her. In her humility she grovelled at the base. 

Did she love him? 

The cruel question obsessed her, for, admittedly, she 
was in love with love, enchanted with kind looks, words, 
and actions, the petits soins which have held thousands 
of sweet women bond to men unworthy of them. This 
feeling, so strong that she feared to analyse it, was 
sexless. If a woman had befriended her she would 
have thrilled with the same immeasurable gratitude and 
satisfaction; but this fact, we may well believe, she 
had not yet grasped. Harry, as a youth, she had 
once loved: her first love. Surely she must still love 
the man grown to mighty stature who loved her. You 
must remember that it was not possible for her to know 
what is plain to us. Impulsive, free from vanity and 
self-consciousness, how could she conceive of her Harry 


126 


THE PALADIN 


posing, like a model, for the mere gratification of say- 
ing to himself : “ Behold, I am not as other publicans 
and sinners ”? 

No: he had rushed hot-foot upon her trail because 
he loved her. 

Outwardly, she behaved with charming grace and 
gratitude. They made excursions to Dreux and Evreux 
and Chartres, and listening to her he could scarce be- 
lieve that this was not his own girl of Palace Gardens, 
only wiser, riper, and a more entertaining companion. 
Life without her, even in a lotus land, began to appear 
a desert. He wondered why he had found Alice Go- 
dolphin so amusing, not recollecting that the dancer 
had danced her way into his fancy to the good old tune 
set by flattery. She had told him, upon the first night 
they met, that he was the best-looking man in town 
and “ Awfully clever, I’m sure ! ” 

Esther flattered him also, quite unconsciously. 
Abased, she looked up with a tender gleam in her eyes 
which set our paladin ablaze. 

“ God help me ! I love her more than ever ! ” 

The exclamation broke from a tortured First Secre- 
tary of Legation alarmed by the new and bewildering 
character of his own sensations. 

After dinner they sat together upon the terrace over- 
looking the river, listening to the tinkle of the fountain 
and the soft voices of the night. They talked little, 
but each was conscious of the sweet intimacy, the pene- 
trating charm, which darkness quickens. Twice Harry 
took Esther’s hand in his. But he refrained from 
kissing it ! At his touch the siren trembled. By the 


THE PALADIN 127 

light of the stars he caught a glimpse of a heaving 
bosom. 

“ If life could always flow on like this,” she mur- 
mured. 

At that, fearing to be too rash, unable to reply with 
a phrase which would satisfy the exigencies of an en- 
chanting moment and at the same time not arouse ex- 
pectations which a chivalrous gentleman might not be 
able to satisfy, our paladin had replied with, we fear, 
banality : 

“ It’s getting rather chilly. Perhaps we ought to 
go indoors.” 

Next morning she blushed when he appeared, and 
for the first time exhibited constraint in his presence 
and a nervousness which he divined he alone could 
put to flight. He said boldly : “ I slept badly,” and 
she replied : “ So did I.” Then they sighed. Each 

dreaded speech, and yet silence maddened him. For 
Esther saw how it was with him and knew that she 
could pay her debt to her lover: every shilling in the 
pound, and compound interest beside ! 

He, for his part, while shaving that morning, had 
almost made up his mind to plunge blindly into honour- 
able marriage. No man of his acquaintance — except, 
possibly, the friend in the Foreign Office spoken of 
already as a love-in-a-cottage simpleton — would so 
plunge. The very word indicated a descent. And he 
might be leaping head first into horrors. By this time 
it was obvious that Esther would sooner talk of any- 
thing under the sun and stars rather than those years 
which lay like a pea-soup fog between them. She had 


128 


THE PALADIN 


prattled gaily enough of some of her experiences in 
the hat shop — experiences at which our paladin had — 
well — sniffed. Not that the sniff was audible, but his 
nose — such a nice straight nose! — had been cocked at 
a higher angle. A stranger might have suspected that 
something was wrong with the drains. And he said 
with muffled indignation: 

44 That you should have gone through this ! ” 

44 But I liked it, Harry. It was great fun, really.” 

44 Fun P ” He strangled a snort. 

44 Yes, fun. I learned a lot.” 

44 No doubt. If you had married me ! Five 

times I asked you. And when I was at Eton I used to 
say that I’d never ask a woman twice: I did indeed.” 

44 Eton boys put on too much side. If I had mar- 
ried you, Harry, where would you have been to-day? 
First Secretary at Buenos Ayres? I think not. Would 
your uncle have increased your allowance? Not he!” 

44 I told you once that money is not everything.” 

44 I’m ashamed to say that I accepted the statement 
with salt. You are a paladin.” 

He smiled and stroked his moustache. At last the 
scales were falling from her pretty eyes. ^ 

44 Money or no money, I wanted you.” 

44 1 was not quite fair to you.” 

And then, swiftly, she had changed the subject. 
And afterwards, during the pleasant days that fol- 
lowed, she had seemed to know that the time had not 
come for the last word, and that such a time must be 
fixed by him. 

When would that time come? 


THE PALADIN 


129 


They had breakfasted together as usual, but Babette 
shook her head when her dishes returned to the kitchen. 
Name of a dog! What was the matter? Had Mon- 
sieur quarrelled with his so charming Mees? 

Two days before, the trained nurse had bidden Esther 
good-bye. Before she went, she said with an illuminat- 
ing smile : “ I shall assist at the wedding, Mademoi- 
selle, if it takes place here.” 

“ The wedding? ” 

“ Ah, Mademoiselle, we have all rejoiced. Monsieur 
is tres correct , hein? But when you were ill — — ! Oh 
— 1& — la! 99 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ He was not ashamed, even before us, to show how 
he adored you. And always, you were miserable if he 
was away. And morning and evening you embrace 
him.” 

“ Good gracious ! ” 

“ You sit yourself on his knee.” 

“ I sit myself on his ! ” 

“ And you call him ‘ Brownie. 5 ” 

“ I have behaved like a child, and he treated me as 
such.” 

“ Never, never in my life, have I seen so pretty and 
so sad a sight as you, Mademoiselle, on Monsieur’s 
knee!” 

“ Evidently I looked upon Monsieur as my father.” 

“That, alas! jumped to the eyes. But Monsieur, 
he look at you, Mademoiselle, as if you were a peach 
that he was forbidden to eat. The forbidden fruit — 
hein? 99 


130 


THE PALADIN 


Esther blushed, laughed, and kissed her nurse on 
both cheeks. After this confidential talk, and its be- 
wildering revelations, she told herself that surely she 
did love Harry, because she had acclaimed him as her 
own when her poor wits wandered away. 

They spent the next day or two in that dear sweet 
country, well-named by our neighbours le pays du 
tendre , through which meanders the gentle stream of 
Courtship. Of its pure waters Esther drank deep, 
her paladin holding out the chalice, and refilling it 
twenty times a day. She saw him at his best, the 
preux chevalier on his knees before his lady, the very 
perfect knight, a Galahad. It seemed to be his will 
to treat her with a respect, a veneration, a delicacy 
absolutely enchanting. She told him again and again 
that he was “ wonderful.” Honestly, without a scin- 
tilla of doubt, he believed it, for he had almost made 
up his mind to marry her. Something had to be ac- 
complished first — an interview with his uncle — but he 
regarded Esther as his future wife. 

Why did he not tell her so, and have done with it?. 

It is not easy to reply. Your procrastinator will 
let the heavens fall rather than deny himself the dar- 
ling luxury of anticipation. Our Harry fell asleep 
smiling, and dreamed of the glow on Esther’s face when 
her god stood revealed in all his glory; and the inter- 
view with Lord Camber, if successfully accomplished, 
would be the crown of his high enterprise. Unhappily, 
he did not think of her, nor compute what suspense 
might be to a woman of her character and tempera- 
ment. 


THE PALADIN 


131 


An incident, very trifling in itself, presented our 
paladin in a less kind light. Babette wished to know 
if her service as cook would be required during the 
winter. A situation in Rouen had been offered. What 
should she say? 

“ One must think of the winter, we others.” 

The “ we ” pierced, not to mention the preceding 
words. Esther shivered, thinking of the snow and hail. 
Ah, yes, it behoved all women to think of, to provide 
against — the winter. Knowing that Harry’s leave 
would expire in November, she was about to answer 
that most assuredly Babette’s services would not be 
wanted after that month. But she had been trained 
in a school where no understrapper dares answer for a 
superior. As a shop girl in the Great Emporium, at 
Southampton, the necessity of referring the most sim- 
ple question to a paragon in a frock coat had been 
scourged into her. 

“ 1 will speak to Monsieur,” she replied. 

“ I should like to cook for Mademoiselle for ever and 
ever. Mademoiselle comprehends that? ” 

Esther kissed her rosy cheeks. 

“ What nice people there are in the world,” she said. 

In the tiny garden, under the chestnut tree, her 
Harry lay asleep upon his chaise longue . Esther 
looked at him; and a slight frown wrinkled her fore- 
head, bringing out the cruel lines which good food and 
kind words had almost but not quite smoothed away. 
The book he had been reading, a French novel by Loti, 
had slipped from his relaxed hand to the ground. His 
head, tilted backward, as slightly on one side: the 


132 


THE PALADIN 


mouth was open : the chin had retreated an inch or two. 
After an excellent dejeuner , in a warm, soporific air, 
he slumbered sweetly, as a plump, pink baby slumbers 
after its mid-day bottle. 

She examined him attentively. 

The lower lip, she decided, was too full; but the 
upper had been finely cut; the chin left something to 
be desired, a less rounded contour, a sharper angle. 
Time might turn it into a jowl. And his curls, a 
thought too luxuriant, masked a brow not cast in the 
heroic mould. 

She realised, with a shock, that she was criticising 
him, and not too favourably, and that, unconsciously, 
she had been trying to see him as he might be ten 
years hence. How disloyal ! 

She touched his forehead with her hand, and he 
awoke. 

44 Babette wishes to know if you will need her after 
November.” 

44 Bother Babette ! What a drowsy afternoon ! ” 

44 You see, she must think of the winter.” 

44 Shall we walk, or go on the river, or sit here ? ” 

44 Babette wants an answer at once.” 

44 Servants are. so inconsiderate. I do not choose to 
give her an answer at once. If she wants to leave, I 
dare say we can find another cook.” 

44 Oh, no. She would like, so she says, to cook for 
us for ever and ever.” 

44 Tell her not to play the fool.” 

44 But — the winter? ” 

44 Good heavens ! Am I the sort of man to let a 
servant suffer? ” 


THE PALADIN 


133 


“ No.” She sat down beside him, and took his 
hand. 

“ I may keep on this house,” he added. 

What was she to infer from this ? The colour flowed 
into her cheeks as she murmured: 

“ Harry, dear, you have said nothing to me of your 
plans.” 

“ Perhaps my plans are not quite in shape.” 

Something in his tone, an inflection of reproach, of 
displeasure or disappointment, made her withdraw her 
hand. He saw shadows on her face and frowned. 
When he spoke again his words had a distinctly sub- 
acid flavour. 

“ My dear girl, can’t you trust me? ” 

“Ye— es.” 

“Without trust — er — where are we? Have I done 
anything to make you distrust me? ” 

She remained silent. 

“ Perfect friendship — and — er — perfect trust are 
about the same thing, eh? ” 

He, did not express himself well. What public- 
school man does? To talk like a book, in the opinion 
of his world, was to talk like a damned prig. He 
expressed himself better in French. This gives furi- 
ously to think, as our friends and allies say. 

“ Yes,” said Esther slowly, “ perfect friendship and 
perfect trust walk hand in hand. If they are not the 
same thing they are twins.” 

“ Then why do you ask about my plans ? ” 

She said no more. 

How could she retort : “ I am to trust you, but you 
don’t trust me. If you love me ? if you think I love 


134i 


THE PALADIN 


you, have I not the right to help in this shaping of 
plans? It is cruel, unjust, to leave me in the dark.” 

Bitter experience had taught her that most men ex- 
act from women a trust which they are not willing to 
bestow in return. Her father had never trusted her. 
Had he done so, she might have stayed his hand when 
it reached for the pistol. Douglas Yorke had gambled 
away her future and his own, risking all upon a last 
throw. A word to her, and the catastrophe might have 
been averted. Her father had never really loved her, 
because that word was withheld. 

From that instant, maybe, dated a reaction, against 
which she struggled helplessly. Sabrina had said years 
before — how long ago it seemed ! — that Harry must not 
play the hero intermittently. Sabrina meant, of course, 
that he must not play the hero at all, being an ama- 
teur, and as such despised by the professional. But 
surely Sabrina would have admitted that what he had 
done during the past six weeks was heroic — the real 
thing? His chivalrous care of her had not been inter- 
mittent. Nevertheless, now he was weighing pros and 
cons, counting the cost, marking time. If he had been 
really adventurous, the true paladin of romance, how 
she could adore him! 

That afternoon he said abruptly: “ I’m going to 
leave you for a few days. You won’t mind? ” 

“ Oh, no.” The words slipped out naturally. She 
wanted to be alone for a few days, so as to adjust her 
view of him, now out of focus. For a week he had 
filled the world. 

“ You said that as if you wanted me to go,” 


THE PALADIN 


135 


“ Harry ! ” 

“Your face brightened: I swear it did.” 

“ How absurd you are l ” 

“ That is the one thing I am not, thank the Lord ! 
Absurd? I detest absurd people. And I like to know 
exactly where I am. I have some business in town, 
but I feared you would miss me most awfully if I left 
you alone.” 

“ Of course I shall miss you.” 

“ Do you know that when you were ill, you couldn’t 
bear me to stay away more than an hour at the most? ” 

“ So the nurse told me. It was very funny.” 

“ What odd words you use ! I don’t see that it was 
funny.” 

“ And I sat on your knee, and embraced you, morn- 
ing and evening, un bon becot familial, and called you 
6 Brownie.’ ” 

She laughed to hide a deeper feeling, but he could 
not perceive that. 

“ I’m glad you’re amused,” he said stiffly. 

Next day at noon, he departed, and she was left 
alone with her thoughts. She passed the first few hours 
in a reverie, inhaling the delicious air, so sparkling and 
yet so soft, giving herself up to the enchanting present. 
The weather was perfect. Around her, Mother Earth 
seemed to be resting after the travail of harvest. The 
leaves were turning, but not quite ready to fall. After 
the first frost the ground would be strewn with them. 
There was no wind, but towards evening a breeze 
floated up the river, bringing with it the sublimated 
note of a distant bell. Esther sat under the chestnut 


136 


THE PALADIN 


tree, gazing into the rose-coloured haze out of which 
soared the spires of Rouen, contrasting this sweet scene 
with the slum from which a paladin had haled her, 
hearing the shrilling of the crickets and the croaking 
of the frogs in the water-meadows. In the fields be- 
hind the cottage, some peasants were singing, and be- 
low, a barefooted gardeuse de vaches was driving home 
her kine. 

Beyond this paradise seethed and simmered the 
world that works and starves. Esther asked herself 
with profound melancholy, whether she could go back 
to the crowd : the struggling myriads who had trampled 
upon her underfoot. Life, as she had found it, ap- 
peared atrocious, intolerable, impossible. And then 
suddenly, out of the shadows of the past, with a faint 
smile upon her lips, came a mental vision of Sabrina. 
At such moments, Esther shuddered. Her friend seemed 
to be very near her, clothed in the samite of a guardian 
angel. Sabrina had fought against wind and tide, 
and had gained — rest. And now to Esther had been 
vouchsafed rest. But between this rest and herself 
stood her friend, with uplifted finger, bidding her pause 
and consider. So Sabrina had stood, in the Southamp- 
ton slum, between a weary, desperate woman and the 
oblivion to be achieved by a leap from a window or a 
plunge into the river. 

Esther closed her eyes, knowing that a grim struggle 
confronted her, and that she must choose, now, between 
the conflicting claims of the flesh and the spirit. 


CHAPTER X 


THE PALADIN PERCEIVES THAT VIRTUE MAY BRING ITS 
OWN REWARD 

Lord Camber’s town house was in Grosvenor Square. 
When he became engaged to the lady whom our paladin 
had once described as “ designing,” it had been put in 
order and redecorated. But the man who owned it, 
and so much more beside, cared little for entertaining, 
and his wife cared even less. Before his marriage he 
had been famous as a yachtsman, owning always the 
most up-to-date racing machine and, in addition, a 
large, comfortable ocean-going steamer, the Albatross . 
After his marriage he gave up racing, but he spent 
two or three months each year cruising in little-known 
waters ; and his wife was as fond of salt water as he. 
He held a master’s certificate, and was-, accounted a 
navigator. 

We may as well admit that he had never held his 
nephew in very high esteem. Lady Matilda considered 
this amazing. It was one of many things which the 
dear lady could not understand. Of course poor Cam- 
ber was admittedly odd. He had loose notions about 
public-school education, for instance; he could not be 
described as a “ sound ” Conservative ; he thought too 
much time was wasted in playing cricket ; and he had 
said in public that, in his opinion, the British Empire 
was quite large enough. To whom much is given much 
137 


138 


THE PALADIN 


is forgiven, but Mrs. Rockingham Trigg echoed the 
opinion of a large circle of acquaintance when she said 
it was a pity that such a man possessed forty thousand 
a year. 

Our paladin had shared this view ever since he was 
breeched. In his uncle’s presence he was sensible of 
immeasurable differences. Fortunately, each liked fox- 
hunting. When together they talked amicably enough 
about horses and hounds. 

The butler, upon whose back Harry had ridden when 
he was a boy of five, ushered our hero into his uncle’s 
den, the only room in the house not “ done up.” An- 
other example of eccentricity ! Den it was and always 
had been, filled with what Lady Matilda called rub- 
bish: dreadfully dull books and pamphlets upon estate 
management, municipal economy, poor law r s, and 
charity organisation, photographs of people one never 
met, thank God! hideous curios from outlandish coun- 
tries, and innumerable battered pipes. 

“ Glad to see you, my boy. Sit down, fill your pipe, 
and tell me all about yourself.” 

Harry did not smoke a pipe in London, but he had 
wit enough not to say so. He produced a gold 
cigarette case, at the sight of which his uncle’s eyes 
twinkled. 

“ Gold — or rolled ? ” he inquired. 

“ Gold,” said Harry, stiffly. He looked about for a 
match. Lord Camber pulled out a penny box from a 
pocket of a disgraceful tweed coat. 

“ Catch!” 

Harry lit his cigarette, and wondered why his uncle’s 


THE PALADIN 139 

manners were so very bourgeois. He stared at one like 
a tinker. 

“ You look uncommonly well, Harry. Been out at 
grass, eh? ” 

66 1 have been in France.” 

“ So your mother told me. Wonderful woman, that ! 
Evergreen ! 99 

“ How are the twins ? 99 

“ Going strong.” 

“ You have been very good to me, uncle.” 

“ Tut, tut.” 

“ You allow me a thousand a year now.” 

“ And this new billet means an extra five hundred, 
eh? And no incumbrances ” — he glanced sharply at 
his nephew — “ no one but yourself to spend it on. 
Lucky dog ! You’re better off than I am. Never had 
a gold cigarette case in my life.” 

“ It was given to me,” said Harry, conscious that 
he had rather overdressed his part. He was looking 
very spick and span indeed. 

“ I’m thinking of getting married, uncle.” 

“Ah!” 

“ To a young lady of whom you have heard, and of 
whom possibly you may disapprove as — as a wife 
for me.” 

Lord Camber’s eyes no longer twinkled. He had 
heard of Miss Godolphin, and, in fact, had seen her 
dance. 

“ Why do you think I should disapprove of this — 
er — young lady? ” 

“ My mother hinted as much.” 


140 


THE PALADIN 


“You have spoken to your mother?” 

“ Not yet.” 

“ I’m rather a duffer at catching thoughts on the 
fly.” 

“ My mother gave me to understand, when I went to 
The Hague, that you had increased my allowance be- 
cause — well, because I was not marrying her.” 

“ God bless my soul ! Are you speaking of Esther 
Yorke? ” 

“ Have I said anything extraordinary? ” 

His uncle laughed. 

“ My dear fellow, there seems to be a misapprehen- 
sion somewhere. Your mother, years ago, told me 
that she had the most charming girl in England staked 
out for you. Not her words — mine. I met the young 
lady, and I thought your mother was quite right. Miss 
Yorke struck me as being a really good sort, quite 
captivating. Then came her father’s smash. I’m go- 
ing to be frank with you, Harry. I did you an in- 
justice. I thought that the smash would choke you 
off. It seems that it didn’t. You asked her to marry 
you against your mother’s wish and knowing the worst. 
It was handsomely done, sir.” 

Harry lifted his head. Beneath his smart waistcoat 
his chest expanded a couple of inches. 

“ It was handsomely done,” repeated this extraordi- 
nary man, “ and I beg your pardon for thinking you 
were incapable of doing it. When I heard that she 
had refused you I was deuced sorry — and, well, I in- 
creased your allowance because I thought that Miss 
Yorke might have said ‘No’ because she knew — as 


THE PALADIN 


141 


well as I did — that with your tastes marriage on seven 
hundred a year must be a bit of an experiment. Your 
mother seems to have grasped the wrong end of the 
stick.” 

Harry wiped his forehead. 

“ Now go on, my boy.” 

Harry went on. We know what he said, but it is 
not easy to convey the way he said it. His modest 
recital of his quest for the girl who had disappeared; 
his somewhat halting utterance, throwing into vivid 
relief the “ tryer ” and “ thruster,” as contrasted with 
the mere phrase-maker; his blushes when he mentioned 
his retirement to the inn ; his final “ now I mean to 
marry her,” produced a prodigious effect. Lord Cam- 
ber sat staring at his nephew, with his eyes nearly 
popping from his head. When the last word was out 
he jumped up and seized the hand of the paladin. 

“ You’ve given me the surprise of my life,” he splut- 
tered. “ ’Pon my soul, I’m proud of you. I’m 
ashamed to think that we’re, comparatively speaking, 
strangers. Marry her? You shall marry her from this 
house, and I’ll give her away. The Missus will want 
to hug you. She doesn’t know you, Harry, and I 
don’t think you know her. But she’s thoroughbred. 
By Jove ! I’ve let my pipe go out ! ” 

At this moment the wonderful thought came to 
Harry that virtue is rewarded in this world — some- 
times \ 

He stayed to luncheon, and, metaphorically speak- 
ing, Lady Camber did hug him. And throughout a 
meal which might have been much better cooked and 


THE PALADIN 


M2 

served he was conscious that his uncle’s eyes rested 
upon him with affection and admiration. Afterwards 
a business word was spoken which warmed the heart 
even more than the old brandy which the butler forgot 
to bring in. 

44 I’m going round the world in the yacht, and we 
start in three weeks. Can your young woman get 
ready before that? You think so, eh? I don’t doubt 
it. And your leave will be up in November. You’re 
not thinking of chucking your profession? No; quite 
right. Before I leave England I shall settle two thou- 
sand a year on you. The twins made your nose rather 
sore, eh? But it’s straight enough now. And I shall 
make it my particular business that you don’t stick 
too long in Buenos Ayres. They ” (unmentionable 
influential personages were indicated) 44 owe me some- 
thing.” 

That night Harry dined alone in one of the smart 
restaurants ; and he felt justified in doing himself 
rather well. The room, too florid in its French scheme 
of decoration, was lined with pink brocade specially de- 
signed to enhance the charms of the fair women and 
brave men who sat at meat. At convenient intervals 
were mirrors. A cavalier too well bred to stare at a 
sparkler might contemplate a discretion the scintillating 
image in the glass. In late September most of the 
sparklers were sparkling in country houses, but Harry 
was the better able to look at himself. He did so with 
dignity, not shrinking the ordeal. Long ago, when he 
was a child of five, his nurse had held him up to gaze 
into a convex mirror. 44 Whose ugly little face is 
that?” she had asked; and the urchin responded in- 


THE PALADIN 


143 


stantly, “ Yours.” An unconscious humorist at five! 
He might have dined in Grosvenor Square ; but, apart 
from the bad cooking, he was modest enough to feel 
the necessity of stepping from his pedestal, of unbend- 
ing, of taking off his shining armour. There are mo- 
ments when the righteous do feel that their righteous- 
ness is indeed a “ filthy rag.” 

After dinner he intended to look in at one of the 
halls — not the one where Miss Godolphin was dancing ; 
but the dinner was so good, and the wine so insidiously 
exhilarating, that only those who dwell in Scotch 
manses will dare to throw a stone at him for changing 
his mind at the last instant. All said and done, the 
head waiter was more to blame than our paladin. That 
great man, commanded to secure a stall at the Em- 
pire or Alhambra, had hurried from the telephone to 
whisper that a seat half-way down the gangway was 
available at the Terpsichore. “I secured it, sir,” he 
added. 

“ Quite right,” replied our Harry. As he sipped his 
coffee he reflected that he need not “ go round ” after- 
wards. Alice would never see him through the blazing 
footlights, and without doubt she was supping with 
one of her innumerable “ boys.” He intended to be 
snug in bed by midnight. On the morrow he would 
travel down to the country house where Lady Matilda 
was staying and break the news to her. He meant 
to have a bit of a game with the little mater. She 
had not quite played cricket. Not that he bore her 
malice. Thank the Lord! he was able to see things 
from the other fellow’s point of view; but, all the 
same, the little Mumsie must be made to sit up. 


THE PALADIN 


144 

Halfway through the performance at the Terpsichore 
a note was brought to him by an attendant : 

Are we back from our travels? Please come and talk about 
them with — A lice. 

Only a churl could have refused such an invitation. 
Alice was a good little girl, and she would understand. 
He would tell her the truth; it might surprise her. 
Like most women of her class she was inclined to hold 
men too cheap. Somebody, an attendant probably, had 
mentioned that he was in the theatre, for her turn 
had not yet begun. After it was over he would slip 
round for a minute. 

Alice came on five minutes later. She was famous 
as a mimic and a dancer, and — good. The adjective 
is inclusive. She had earned it deservedly when she 
served her apprenticeship at the Jollity Theatre, where 
there is no room for the mothers and aunts of choris- 
ters. Of these unchaperoned young ladies half at least 
are good, and half are not. With those who are not, 
we have, happily, no concern. Our paladin would not 
have been seen supping at the Savoy with a chorister 
of the baser sort, even if she were possessed of the 
beauty of Venus and the wit of Minerva. He had been 
attracted towards Alice because she was unquestionably 
good as well as pretty. She and others like her, ani- 
mated possibly with a desire to provide respectable 
wives and mothers for the Peerage, adopted one golden 
rule: they accepted from their friends everything that 
might be offered — trinkets, hats, dresses, motor-cars, 
and the best food in London — and they gave absolutely 


THE PALADIN 


145 


nothing in return except thanks and conversation. The 
choristers who were not good spoke derisively of the 
golden rule. 

Alice lived with her parents — Mr. and Mrs. Snelling 
— at Clapham. When her salary was raised from two 
guineas a week to twenty she selected a dresser, whose 
better acquaintance we shall make presently. The 
dresser, Mrs. Peach, was a thin, jealous, acidulous old 
woman, a Cockney to the marrow, devoted to Alice, 
and ignorant of everything outside the theatrical pro- 
fession. Mrs. Peach served on occasion as watch-dog. 
Alice’s boys, provided they were on sufficiently intimate 
terms with the management, were allowed to knock at 
Alice’s dressing-room ; but Peach sat there, alternately 
grinning and scowling at them. 

Alice mimicked inimitably half a dozen celebrities, 
danced, and retired. She found our paladin awaiting 
her. 

66 1 am glad to see you,” she said, with entire truth. 
“ Where have you been ? ” 

“ Abroad,” said Harry. Alice had never heard of 
Esther, but, being a shrewd young person, she was 
well aware that there must have been somebody of her 
own sex who had cast a shadow, so to speak, upon this 
splendid specimen of manhood. This was a favourite 
phrase of Alice’s, culled from the novelettes which she 
read when there was nothing better to do. The boys 
who passed through the stage door of the Terpsichore 
were not splendid specimens of manhood, far from it, 
and Harry caused a flutter amongst choristers when- 
ever he appeared. 


146 


THE PALADIN 


“ Can you take me out to supper? ” 

“Yes,” said Harry. He wanted to go to bed, but 
how could he refuse? Alice prattled on, smiling 
sweetly, and looking up at the preux chevalier from un- 
der the longest eyelashes in Clapham. 

“ Peach will call for me at twelve — at the Savoy ? ” 

Harry would have preferred a less smart restaurant, 
but he didn’t say so. After all, was there anything 
to be ashamed of? Nothing. He would tell Esther 
the whole story within forty-eight hours. 

They supped together in the grill-room at a small 
table in the corner. Harry was “ in form,” but Alice, 
apparently, was not, for she sighed twice and re- 
sponded but feebly to the sallies of our paladin. 

“ Anything wrong? 99 said he. 

“ I’ve missed you most awfully ; you might have 
written.” 

“ If I’d thought you really wanted a letter ” 

She put her pretty elbows upon the table, placed 
her face between her hands, and smiled at him. 

“You know you’re extraordinarily modest, Harry.” 

“ Am I? ” 

“ I dare say the right sort of man is generally mod- 
est. The sort I see aren’t. They buck about them- 
selves whenever you give ’em a chance. Fancy your 
not knowing that I should value a letter from you.” 

“ You dear little thing.” 

“Do you really like me? Are we friends, pals? 
Honour ! ” 

“We are pals,” said Harry, with finality. 

“ I’ve never had a pal,” said Alice, thoughtfully. 


THE PALADIN 


117 


(( I thought you had a baker’s dozen at least.” 

“ You mean the boys? Of course, I fluff about with 
them, but I couldn’t make a real pal of a boy. I look 
upon your friendship as a great honour.” 

Harry blushed. 

“ Nonsense!” he muttered. 

“ That’s how I feel about it, anyway. I knew I 
could trust you the very first minute we met. You 
wouldn’t let a pal down, I’ll bet.” 

“ I should hope not.” 

“ I wouldn’t flatter you for the world. Some of the 
girls spread it on with a shovel. It makes me quite 
sick ; I couldn’t do it, not if it were never so.” 

“ ’Pon my soul, I don’t believe you could.” 

“ I know that I can learn a lot from you.” 

“ What a funny little girl you are ! ” 

“ I shall be furious if you talk to me like that.” 

“ I beg your pardon.” 

“ I do heaps of things of which you disapprove, but 
what sort of a chance have I had? I wasn’t born 
with a purple spoon in my mouth. I mean — oh! you 
know what I mean. I was born in Azalea Gardens, 
Clapham.” 

“ Pretty name, Azalea Gardens.” 

“ Row of hideous little houses. Nine of us in fam- 
ily. We’ve all had to work. Now, of course, with 
my salary, I can help a lot.” 

“ Good as gold you are, ’pon my word.” 

« We’ve stuck to each other and worried through, 
but I’m not your class and don’t pretend to be.” 

“Who cares tuppence about class nowadays?” 


148 


THE PALADIN 


“ I do for one, and in your heart you do for an- 
other. Now, perhaps, you know what I felt when I 
said it was a great honour to have you for a friend.” 

Harry felt his sympathy for this sweet-faced, can- 
did creature oozing through every pore in his skin. 
But he decided that it would be inexpedient to talk to 
her about Esther. Later, perhaps, but not in the 
Savoy grill-room. She was certainly very understand- 
ing — a favourite adjective of his — and extraordinarily 
intelligent, and — er — appreciative. And she had a 
figure like a Tanagra statuette, a Grecian nymph, by 
Jove! He knew that the men present were casting en- 
vious eyes at him. Class or no class, Alice Godolphin 
would challenge admiration in any company. Pretty 
as a peach she was — and good! 

The lights were lowered. 

“ 1 must go,” said Alice. “ I can’t keep that poor 
old dear waiting.” 

She could, and very often she did, but Harry didn’t 
know that. 

As she stood up Harry condemned the Early Closing 
Act. 

“ When shall we meet again, dear? ” 

“ I’m going into the country to-morrow to see my 
mother.” 

“ I’ll bet anything you’re an awfully good son.” 

“I’ve got the best mother in England.” 

“And she taught you to be nice and kind and po- 
lite to all women? ” 

“Ye — es,” said Harry. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE LITTLE MUMSIE SITS UP 

Next day he travelled down to Trigg Court, where 
Lady Matilda was spending a pleasant week with a 
hostess who might be platitudinous, but who paid her 
chef two hundred a year. During the sweet fall of 
the year our Harry’s mother went from house to house, 
taking with her an industrious maid and two black 
Pomeranians. She refused to visit anybody under 
Royal rank without her darling Poms. Even Mrs. 
Rockingham Trigg, who loathed dogs and adored cats, 
said, with real insight: “Now that her children have 
flown from the nest she must have something to love.” 
Mr. Trigg — to whom no attention was paid — growled 
out : “ I draw the line at parrots.” The remark may 
seem irrelevant, but a fortnight previously a full-blown 
marchioness had arrived with a white cockatoo, which 
bit Mr. Trigg’s finger to the bone when, as host, he 
kindly offered the bird a biscuit. Lady Matilda laughed 
when she heard of the incident, and whispered to Mr. 
Trigg : “ Try parsley next time.” 

Our paladin was not certain that he approved of 
some of his mother’s friends. He drew the line closer 
than Mr. Trigg. But he would have admitted, with 
a sigh, that widows inadequately provided for can’t 
pick and choose. Trigg was a bounder, and as uncon- 
scious of his bounds as a kangaroo. You couldn’t es- 
149 


150 


THE PALADIN 


cape from his bounding; and no one tried, because his 
coverts were full of birds and his chef an artist of 
the first force. 

Harry wired to Lady Matilda that he was com- 
ing. 

She put on her prettiest frock to receive him, won- 
dering if a reason other than filial love lay behind this 
unexpected visit. He submitted to be hugged before 
rather a mixed company, and told her she was looking 
“ stunning.” Like his little Mater, he knew the value 
of a kind word. Then he drank his tea and made him- 
self agreeable to the youngest Miss Trigg, who un- 
warrantably assumed that she was a magnet to this 
distinguished young spark. He was in no hurry to talk 
with his mother; but whenever he caught her fond eye 
he smiled graciously, reflecting, without rancour, that 
she thoroughly deserved the lesson she was about to 
receive. What she had done could not possibly be de- 
scribed as cricket. 

Tea at Trigg Court had become a serious affair 
ever since the visit of a Serene Highness with a Gar- 
gantuan appetite; but it came to an end at last, and 
the more serious of the guests settled down to bridge, 
while the young and frivolous retreated to the billiard- 
room to play “ fives ” on Mr. Trigg’s new table. Harry 
sauntered across the hall to his mother. 

“ Dear fellow,” she murmured, “ I’m longing for a 
chat with you. Shall we slip off to my sitting-room? 
These good, kind people always give me a sitting- 
room. So very dear of them, isn’t it? ” 

They went up the grand staircase arm in arm. 


THE PALADIN 


151 


6i Now,” said Lady Matilda, “ we shall be comfy. 
Would you like to ring for your slippers? ” 

“ Thanks ; my boots are quite comfortable.” 

“ This is one of the few advantages you men 
have.” 

A wood fire burned in the fireplace. Lady Matilda 
sank into a chair upon one side of the hearth; our 
Harry sat down, slightly upright, in the chair oppo- 
site. He could see his mother’s face perfectly. 

“ I have found Esther,” he said abruptly. 

“Where? How very interesting!” 

He spoke slowly, emphasising, perhaps unduly, cer- 
tain words. 

“ In a Southampton — slum.” 

“ In a — slum ? ” 

“ Starving!” 

“How perfectly awful!” 

“ Horrible ! ” 

He paused, having the dramatic sense, so necessary 
to those who wish to rise in the Diplomatic Service. 
Lady Matilda moved uneasily in her comfortable chair. 
She was too fashionable a dame not to have done a 
little amateur slumming, and she had seen women within 
a stone’s-throw of St. Peter’s, Eaton Square, who 
looked as if they might be starving. For that reason, 
amongst others, she had abandoned the submerged 
tenth ; for we have her own word for it that her heart 
was soft. 

“ What on earth did you do, Harry ? I never heard 
of anything so shocking in my life.” 

“ I fed her and clothed her,” said Harry. 


153 


THE PALADIN 


His mother’s expression changed. Something in his 
tone challenged her attention, her maternal solicitude. 

“ And then, dear? ” 

“And then I took her to France.” 

“You took her to France!” Lady Matilda moist- 
ened a too dry lip, but she breathed more freely. 
France, in her opinion, was a sort of sanctuary in ex- 
traordinary cases like this. In France even the most 
strait-laced people made proper allowance for the cli- 
mate and — er — the customs. She had seen a bishop 
— an English bishop — enjoying a talk with a naughty 
little actress — in France. 

“ People mind their business over there,” said Harry. 

“ Is Esther over there — now? ” 

“ She is ; I left her in the chalet I have taken near 
Rouen the day before yesterday.” 

“ This is very upsetting. Will you please give me 
the eau de Cologne? There is a large bottle on the 
washing-stand.” 

Harry fetched the eau de Cologne. 

As he uncorked the bottle he said quietly : “ I’m 

going to marry her.” 

Lady Matilda gave a tiny scream. 

“ Marry her ! ” she gasped. “ Marry her — now? ” 

“ Surely, it’s the right thing to do. She is the wife 
you chose for me. Because she has been unfortu- 
nate ” 

“Unfortunate! What a word to use! You say 
you’ve picked her out of a slum, this girl, a — a natural 
child ! ” 

“ Could she help that, poor dear? ” 


THE PALADIN 


153 


“ Harry, you will drive me wild. You can’t do this. 
For my sake, for your own sake, I entreat you to — 
to ” 

She broke off, stammering and confused. 

“ What do you suggest that I should do? ” 

“ Anything, anything but this. Good Heavens ! Out 
of a slum ! My unhappy boy ! ” 

“ If you will go back to Pont Street and receive 
her ” 

“ But I can’t ; I won’t. How dare you ask such a 
thing? It would be criminal, positively criminal. I’m 
sorry, of course, but the girl has touched pitch. What ! 
You stand there and ask me, your mother, to receive 
the woman with whom you have been — er — er ” 

“ I am incapable of what you think. Esther has been 
in my care, as a sister.” 

“ You expect our world to believe that? ” 

“ If you do your part — yes.” 

“ I won’t do my part. Harry, you are breaking 
my heart ; but if you marry this woman, neither she nor 
you will enter my house. There! And after what I 
have done for you Oh ! Oh ! ! ” 

She burst into tears. 

He regarded her coldly, as a judge, not as a son. 
When the first ebullition had subsided, he said in the 
same even tone : “ If it had not been for you, mother, 
I should have married Esther four years ago.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ You must have known that Camber, who is a bet- 
ter fellow than I had supposed, increased my allow- 
ance so as to make the marriage possible.” 


154 


THE PALADIN 


She stared at him, bewildered; he saw plainly that 
this important knowledge had not been vouchsafed to 
her. 

“ Camber? ” she repeated vacantly. 

“ My uncle, it seems, thought then and now that I 
did the right thing in offering Esther marriage.” 

“ I can’t believe it.” 

“ I see you can’t, and I’m sorry. I suppose he 
didn’t make himself plain at the time. He spoke plainly 
enough yesterday.” 

“ Yesterday? You have seen him? ” 

“ Yes ; Esther and I are to be married from the 
house in Grosvenor Square; he gives her away, and 
he settles two thou, a year on us.” 

If he had wished to see his mother “ sit up ” he 
experienced that pleasure. In every sense of the phrase 
Lady Matilda sat up, and struggled to evoke order 
out of chaotic thoughts. 

“Does he know?” 

“ Everything. Ear more than I have told you. He 
is a gentleman, and — er — chivalrous. He admits 
frankly that he never did me justice till yesterday. 
What you and your world consider shocking he looks 
upon as obvious and proper.” 

“ I always said he was the oddest creature. Why 
didn’t you tell me this at once? ” 

“ You hoodwinked me out of four years of happi- 
ness.” 

They stared at each other. Then Lady Matilda 
laughed. People liked her because she could enjoy 


THE PALADIN 


155 


a joke against herself. She had great recuperative 
qualities, and an enormous respect for what Camber 
represented. 

44 If the head of the family is satisfied, I shall not 
make myself conspicuous and ridiculous. First and 
last I have acted in your interests. It will be very 
inconvenient, but I suppose Esther ought to come to 
Pont Street.” 

44 It will mean a great deal to her — and to me.” 

He bent down and kissed her. 

After dinner Lady Matilda breathed a word into 
Mrs. Rockingham Trigg’s left ear. 

44 My dear, Harry brought the most delightful news. 
I can’t mention names, but I’m the happiest woman 
in the world to-night. My darling boy has behaved 
quite too chivalrously, and now he is going to reap 
his reward. He has been so noble; and Camber, at 
last, sees him as he is. He never did him justice. I’ve 
said so again and again. There will be a quiet wed- 
ding in Grosvenor Square. It really is an idyll. Entre 
nous , Camber has been most liberal in the matter of 
settlements. Don’t kiss me; Constance Malplaquet is 
looking at us. Squeeze my hand, dear.” 

Mrs. Rockingham Trigg squeezed a plump little 
hand. 

44 Not a word to a soul here.” 

44 Of course not. I think I can make a guess. An 
idyll — eh? ” 

44 Quite a romance, quite ! It brings back so vividly 


156 


THE PALADIN 


my own little affair. I beg your pardon? Perfectly! — 
the finger of Providence! How true! I knew that I 
could count on your sympathy.” 

That night Mrs. Trigg said to her husband when 
he came up from the smoking-room, “ That idiot 
Harry Rye is going to marry Alice Godolphin.” 

“ Eh — wh — at ? Impossible ! ” 

“ Just had it from the absent-minded little puss.” 

Lady Matilda was known as the “ absent-minded lit- 
tle puss ” because, having failed to obtain an invita- 
tion to a very great function at Piccadilly House, she 
had, notwithstanding, put in an appearance, and in 
answer to a brutal question of the hostess, who hap- 
pened to be her own cousin, she replied, “ Receive a 
card, my dearest Bunny? Really, I can’t say whether 
I did or not. You know, darling, what an absent- 
minded little puss I am, and I felt that at your house 
I should always be welcome.” 

Mr. Trigg shrugged his shoulders. 

“ How sick pussy must be ! Thank the Lord, we 
needn’t give anything.” 

“ Camber makes a handsome settlement. They are 
to be married from Grosvenor Square.” 

“ Um ! Then we shall have to weigh in heavily.” 

Next day our Harry returned to London, somewhat 
inflated. An observant stranger, who sat opposite to 
him in the railway carriage, and was, therefore, en- 
abled to form a leisurely judgment of his points, came 
to the conclusion that there was a great deal of the 
young fellow, and likely to be more as the years 
passed. Harry did not read, nor did he speak to his 


THE PALADIN 


157 


travelling companion. He lay back and meditated, re- 
hearsing, so to speak, the great, the final scene in this 
romantic drama. He saw his Esther awaiting him, he 
felt her glad hand in his, he savoured, deliciously, the 
fruits that hung temptingly within reach, and which 
another fellow — the world was full of blackguards — 
might have plucked prematurely. 

There were moments when he was amazed at what 
he had done; the magnitude of his achievement almost 
oppressed him. In a sense greatness had been thrust 
upon him. The affair would have assumed different 
proportions if Camber had not risen also to a tre- 
mendous opportunity. Camber was entitled to a lot 
of credit. Camber had an eye! After this the rela- 
tions between the head of the family and himself would 
be of the happiest. 

The Mater, too, had received a salutary lesson. Be- 
fore Harry left Trigg Court she had come entirely 
round to the right view. Perhaps — it was a nice point 
— he had been a bit rough with the little Mumsie, but 
at the end, when she kissed him in the hall, she had 
whispered, “ I am so proud of my boy.” And Mrs. 
Trigg — not a bad sort, Mrs. Trigg, although the 
smile with which she speeded her departing guests 
was, perhaps, more genuine than the one with which 
she welcomed them — had murmured “ Tout went a 
- point a qui salt attendre .” She fancied her French, 
but it was the right language to use to a diplomat, 
who knew, none better, how to wait. 

That night he crossed from Southampton to Havre. 
The Channel was smooth and the moon at the full. 


158 


THE PALADIN 


Our paladin sat on deck, gazing at the silvery waters, 
supremely happy. Life stretched before him, a pleasant 
pilgrimage across tranquil seas illumined by a soft, 
tender light. He eyed with interest an obviously honey- 
mooning couple, who, arm in arm, paced up and down 
the deck. They were of the baser sort, trippers, but 
his heart warmed to them. Indeed, he felt kindly dis- 
posed to all human creatures, one of the great brother- 
hood, and not the least of them, inasmuch as he recog- 
nised the inordinate claim of weakness upon strength. 

The exquisite beauty of the scene did not appeal 
very profoundly to our Harry. Those who derive 
deep pleasure in the contemplation of themselves pay 
but scant attention to other objects. Narcissus, we 
may conjecture, admired himself more than the stream 
in which his image was reflected. And to Harry the 
eternal youth and freshness of the sea served but to 
illustrate similar attributes within himself, and its con- 
quest by man wielding his tremendous weapons of iron 
and steam provoked the reflection that Man, generally 
speaking, was victorious over Woman. “ La mer est 
t ou jours femme ” The phrase had stuck in a fairly 
retentive memory. How true! He mused pleasantly 
upon the mystery and instability of water and women, 
upon the strength and steadfastness of men. 

Thus he kept vigil, like a true knight, while the 
moonlit hours glided by. 

At eleven upon the following morning he was climb- 
ing the sharp hill from the river, looking upward at the 
chalet which sheltered his love. To his regret the sun 
was obscured by mists which might have struck chill 


THE PALADIN 


159 


to a heart less ardent. And a soft, penetrating rain 
had begun to fall, which accounted, perhaps, for the 
fact that Esther was not at the foot of the hill to 
greet him. He had wired that he was coming from 
Havre. 

At the terrace he paused for an instant, surveying 
the familiar scene: the tiny lawn, the chestnut tree, 
the bench beneath it, and the table. On the table lay 
a straw hat of Esther’s, trimmed by herself. Probably 
she had been sitting there, waiting for him, when it 
came on to rain. He crossed the lawn and opened the 
door. As he did so he called loudly: 

“ Esther ! Esther ! ” 

Then he heard a heavy step, not Esther’s, and a 
moment later Babette appeared. 

“ Where is Mademoiselle ? ” 

“ Mademoiselle left the day after Monsieur.” 

“ Left? ” He stared at her stupidly, thunderstruck. 

“ I have this letter for Monsieur.” 

She held out a note, which he took mechanically, 
still staring stupidly at Babette’s rosy cheeks. 

“ Did Mademoiselle tell you where she was going? ” 

“No, Monsieur. We supposed to join Monsieur in 
England.” 

He went into the salon to read the note, walking 
stiffly, as a man walks after a heavy fall out hunting, 
when he is not quite sure whether or not he has re- 
ceived a serious injury. He knew that Esther had run 
away ; her departure could be called by no other name. 
Why? Why? 

He broke the seal of the envelope. 


160 THE PALADIN 

My Dear Harry, — I am going away because I can’t stay here 
any longer, because I won’t add another farthing to the enor- 
mous debt I owe you. You have given me back more than 
health and strength — my faith in myself, which I thought was 
dead. I still believe that I can earn my own living; and I’m 
going to try again. 

Harry, dear, there is one way in which I could have paid my 
debt in full to you, but — oh! how can I write it? — I don’t love 
you devotedly enough to do it. Think me hard and ungrateful 
you must, but believe me honest. Perhaps I am not capable of 
real love. I don’t know. I adored you when we were boy and 
girl. And there was a moment here, the first moment after 
my poor wits came back, when I realised what you had done. 

Then But what is the use of saying it? I’m a creature of 

impulse, and impulse drives me from you to-day, when a week 
ago it almost drove me to fling myself into your arms. 

I have taken a few clothes and enough of the money you left 
me to pay for my ticket to England and a week’s board and 
lodging. Babette has the rest. 

I wish I had the pluck to pay the bill, but I haven’t. That is 
all, and H6aven knows it is enough. I can hear you cursing 
me, because I saw in your eyes what you wanted. 

Please don’t try to find me! It will only mean more pain 
for you and for me. 

Good-bye, dear. The time may come when you will think 
kindly of 

Esther. 

Harry sat down, staring at the sheet of paper, ab- 
solutely confounded. The surprise had paralysed his 
sensibilities. He was incapable of thought, but, curi- 
ously enough, acutely conscious of trifles. The thing 
most vividly present to his mind at the moment was 
Esther’s hat, lying upon the table outside. An ani- 
mal fury possessed him to rush out and trample upon 
it. His gaze wandered round the salon. In that chair 
she had sat; at the writing-table near the window she 


THE PALADIN 161 

had written the letter he still held in his nerveless hand. 
He glanced at the clock. It had run down. Then he 
looked up sharply. 

The rain was pattering hard upon the roof of the 
chalet, and the rising wind seemed to sing a requiem 
for a summer that could never come back, for the days 
that were dead. 


CHAPTER XII 


A TOWER OF STRENGTH 

Esther arrived in London upon the day that Harry 
crossed to Havre. She went straight to Miranda’s 
rooms, arriving at the moment when she knew from 
long experience that her friend would be alone; the 
sacred interval between the morning and afternoon 
classes. In the typewriting establishment upon the 
first floor the machines were ticking furiously. Esther, 
bag in hand, paused and listened to the familiar sound, 
which brought back so much to the memory, and in 
particular the day when Sabrina died. Then she 
mounted the steep, dusty staircase and knocked at 
Miranda’s door. 

44 Come in,” said a cross voice. 

Miranda, having finished her chop and pint of stout, 
was smoking upon her sofa, and annoyed, therefore, 
at being disturbed. Esther opened the door, faintly 
smiling. 

44 1 have come back,” she said. 

Miranda rolled off the sofa, choking with tobacco 
smoke wrongly inhaled, and astonishment. She had al- 
ways believed that Esther would come back, but not 
the Esther who had gone away: possibly some thin, 
wretched, broken-hearted creature, the wreck of the 
joyous, charming girl she had loved. 

44 Gracious ! ” 


162 


THE PALADIN 


163 


“ Aren’t you glad to see me? ” 

“ Glad ! Lawsy ! how glad I am ! But you’re the 
same, child: you’ve not changed.” 

“ Oh, haven’t I, Miranda. I’ve not got the five 
pounds ” — she spoke very solemnly. 44 1 was tempted 
to steal it, but I couldn’t rob Peter to pay Paul.” 

44 You look wonderfully well, my dear.” 

44 1 am. That’s why I came back. I shall earn 
that five pounds.” 

44 Hang the five pounds! Have some lunch?” 

44 Can you put me up for the night? ” 

44 Can I? I wonder! Hold hard! ” 

Miranda took from behind the sofa a large card, 
upon which was inscribed the following legend: 

44 Miss Jagg regrets that business of urgent Im- 
portance will prevent her keeping her engagements 
to-day.” 

She hung this outside her door, and then, entering 
the room, locked the door and laughed. 

44 Now we shall be cosy. Sit down beside me, begin 
at the beginning, and don’t leave anything out. You 
have behaved outrageously, and the only amends you 
can make is to tell all the truth and nothing but the 
truth. Kiss me instead of the Book, and remember 
you’re on oath.” 

44 All right,” said Esther, with a certain grimness. 

Twice during the recital Miss Jagg wiped tears from 
her cheeks, but Esther remained dry-eyed. At the end 
there was a pause. 

44 So you ran away? ” 

44 Nothing else was possible.” 


164 


THE PALADIN 


“ When Mr. Rye came here he struck me as being 
a very honourable young man, the sort of young fel- 
low who would always do the right thing. It’s my be- 
lief he meant to marry you.” 

“ Perhaps. It is — just possible, although he never 
said so. But, Miranda, I couldn’t marry him uilless 
I loved him.” 

“ I never heard such rubbish in my life.” 

“ Then why aren’t you a matron? Lots of nice men 
have asked you to marry them. Don’t deny it.” 

“ It’s true.” She sighed, and then winked. “ You 
had me there, you little wretch. Perhaps I was even 
a bigger fool than you. Perhaps I’ve wished again 
and again that I’d been wiser. We are the perversest 
creatures. But I had my profession to support me. 
And you ” 

“ I’ve enough to keep me for a week.” 

“ I have really no patience with you. He is so hand- 
some. Even in my salad days I couldn’t have said 
‘ No ’ to a man like your Harry.” 

“ He never will be mine. How he will loathe me 
when he reads my letter.” 

“You let him down easy, I hope? ” 

“ I tried to be honest.” 

“ He’ll hunt you. And he’ll draw this little cover 
first.” 

“ Of course I can trust you to throw him off the 
scent.” 

“ You mean that I’m a good liar? ” 

“ An accomplished actress, you darling old thing.” 

“ I don’t mind lying in a good cause,” said Miranda, 


THE PALADIN 


165 


reflectively, “ but this is a bad one. Most of my sym- 
pathy is with him, poor dear ! Nice curly hair, too ! ” 

66 Is there any chance of your finding me an engage- 
ment, on tour, understudy, walk on, anything? ” 

“ Not a dog’s chance, not an unborn puppy’s chance. 
My advice is, stop here till he comes.” 

“ I won’t. That’s flat, the last word.” 

Miranda examined her attentively. 

“ It amazes me,” she said, reflectively, “ that you 
have remained sweet after contact with horrors.” 

“ I did not look sweet when Harry found me.” 

“ Um ! That may have given him pause. Perhaps 
he waited ? ” 

“ Too long,” said Esther sharply, betraying herself. 

“ Ah — ha ! I had a glimpse then. All has not been 
said. Your oath, your solemn oath, sworn on my 
cheek. Dare you break it ? I bid you speak ! ” 

She declaimed the phrase. The granddaughter of 
Charles James Bean commanded truth to spring from 
her well. 

“ He waited too long,” Esther admitted, with flam- 
ing cheeks. “ He waited too long before. That settled 
me. I saw him counting the cost, do you understand? 
He wanted me — yes — more and more as the days 
passed, but he was afraid of the cost. And he taught 
me to count the cost, too.” 

“To yourself or to him?” 

“ To both of us. That sort of thing is infectious. 
Even if his intentions were honourable, they were vague. 
The poor man didn’t know, of course, what might have 
happened when I was submerged.” 


166 


THE PALADIN 


“ Did anything awful happen ? ” 

“ Nothing. I sometimes wonder how I escaped the 
last ignominy. Sabrina used to wonder how she es- 
caped. She took no credit to herself. Nor do I. It’s 
a sort of instinct with some women. They may be 
tempted cruelly, but they hold on desperately to the 
one thing. I held on, but 99 

“ Your oath. No reserves, please ! ” 

“ If Harry had been dishonourable I should have 
been easily beguiled.” She blushed. 

“ What?” 

“ You have dragged it from me. When I realised 
what he had done I was afire to pay him back. At a 
nod I should have been at his feet. I was his for the 
asking then, but he didn’t ask. It is some excuse, 
perhaps, that I was weak, able to remember nothing 
but the bottomless pit out of which he had rescued 
me. Miranda, he became a god — colossal. I don’t 
think he, knew what was in my heart at that minute ; 
if he did — well, in that case he protected me against 
myself.” 

“Poor child!” 

“ I think with horror of what might have happened. 
Now ” — she threw up her head — “ I am strong again ; 
I can fight the devils within and without.” 

“ Shush-h-h ! Some of ’em are coming upstairs now. 
The duffers’ class. Lie low!” 

They heard voices and a laugh, then retreating 
footsteps. 

“ This means a sovereign at least out of your 
pocket.” 


THE PALADIN 


167 


“ Seven and six ; not a ha’penny more. Price of a 
seat in the dress-circle. I’m getting my money’s 
worth, and more, too.” 

“ To-morrow morning I’m off to the nursing-home. 
I have a feeling that the matron, Mrs. Tower — do you 
remember her? — Yes? A wonderful woman. Well, 
Sabrina advised me to go to her.” 

66 It’s not a bad idea. To-night we’ll celebrate. 
I’ve seats for a play. Let’s try to forget the 
past.” 

“ And the future,” said Esther. 

A directory informed Esther that Mrs. Tower had 
not moved from her snug quarters near Wimpole 
Street, and on arrival our heroine noticed that another 
house had been annexed, and duly painted and gar- 
nished to match the original nursing-home. As she 
approached a hansom dashed up, and out of it sprang 
a doctor, carrying a small black bag. An electric 
brougham stood near the curb. At an open window 
a nurse in spotless blue and white smiled serenely. 
Esther could hardly believe that more than two years 
had passed. But she shuddered and paled when her 
glance fell upon the window of the room wherein Sa- 
brina had died. And immediately she felt weak and 
wretched, whereas a minute previously she had exulted 
in her strength. Her temperament always played 
these sorry pranks. The mercury rose like a rocket, 
and sank as swiftly. She had a mind to return to 
Miranda. 

“ What a miserable coward I am!” 


168 


THE PALADIN 


With this conviction, freezing hands and feet, she 
pressed the bell, wondering whether she looked half as 
discomposed as she felt. A man in modest livery — 
another concrete example of prosperity — told her that 
Mrs. Tower would see her presently. 

Half an hour passed. 

Esther had not asked for an appointment, and Mrs. 
Tower, of course, was as busy as any woman in the 
kingdom. Esther sat in the same room, in the same 
chair, in which she had awaited Harvey Napier, whose 
fine head still stood out, cameo-like, against the shadows 
of that never-to-be-forgotten morning. What had two 
years brought to him? 

Her feet grew colder as apprehension flamed in her 
brain. Why should this stranger help her? She must 
be besieged by girls carefully trained as nurses, eager 
to serve under so capable a commander — girls, more- 
over, keen to minister to others, proud of their chosen 
profession, glorying in it. The matron had an eye 
for such, an eye even sharper to detect incompetence 
and inexperience. After two minutes’ talk Mrs. Tower 
would bid her good-bye. 

The omnipotent lady entered. 

She seemed, if anything, slightly more massive, more 
monumental. Esther quailed at sight of her. 

“ Can I do anything for you, Miss Yorke? ” 

“ I want a job. I know nothing of nursing. I must 
begin at the very bottom. My friend, Miss Lovell, 
spoke to me of you ; but you’ve forgotten ? ” 

“No, I have not forgotten.” 

“ You must be pestered with these applications. I 


THE PALADIN 169 

feel that there is just one chance in a thousand of 
your taking me, and that chance brought me 
here.” 

Mrs. Tower inclined her head. Esther’s voice, sing- 
ularly soft, attracted her; Esther’s hands, finely formed, 
the hands that can never be clumsy, challenged steady 
attention. She was still examining the hands when 
she answered gravely': 

“ I don’t believe in chance.” 

“ You see design behind everything? ” 

“ 1 try to see it. Miss Lovell was your friend? ” 

“The best friend a girl ever had.” 

“ A judge of character, I take it.” 

“ Wonderful.” 

“You were partners?” 

“ We kept a hat-shop. Bad debts ruined me. I was 
foolish and reckless; I trusted the wrong people; I 
was sold up.” 

“And then?” 

“ I began to slide downhill. I went on tour with a 
third-rate company. I found myself stranded in Bris- 
tol. I got work in a shop. Then I fell ill. I had 
very bad times, too bad to talk about. But now I’m 
strong again, and I’ve enough money to keep me for 
one week, that’s all.” 

“ I’ll give you a chance,” said Mrs. Tower. “ You’ll 
dislike the work, but you’ll do it.” 

“ I shall do it gratefully,” said Esther, “ whatever 
it is.” 

“ Even if I ask you to do what the others won’t do ? ” 

“ Even then.” 


170 


THE PALADIN 


Mrs. Tower held out her hand. Then she said, 
austerely : “ Life and death hang upon hairs in this 

house, and I exact from everybody in my employment 
what I give myself : obedience, punctuality, cleanliness, 
and serenity. If a nurse on duty has a raging tooth- 
ache, her patient must not know it; if she feels miser- 
able, she must smile. It’s convent discipline.” 

“When can I come here?” 

“ To-morrow.” 

She walked back through the dingy streets of doc- 
tordom almost gaily, self- justified, knowing in her 
heart that she had done well, but knowing also that she 
could have loved tenderly and faithfully a Harry upon 
her own level, not a paladin upon a pedestal. Now 
she swung along, free as the ambient air, bound only 
to work. 

Miranda asked questions: her wage, the nature of 
her work. 

“ I shall take what she offers : I shall do what she 
commands.” 

“ Lawsy ! How the spirit has been kicked out of 
you!” 

“ Harry is reading my letter, perhaps at this mo- 
ment.” 

“ He’ll be here soon, that’s a comfort.” 

“ You promised not to betray me.” 

“ Pooh ! He’ll run you to ground. I am sorry for 
that young man. Precious few of his sort about, I 
can tell you.” 

“ That’s it. He’s miles and miles above me.” 

“ Let 4 Excelsior ’ be your motto. In the end you 


THE PALADIN 


171 


will take him. Why not at the beginning — in the mid- 
dle, I mean ? 99 

66 Does he loathe me? Is he cursing me? ” 

“ 1 hope so. Then there will be a healthy reaction. 
I shall expect him to-morrow.” 

“ It’s a comfort to remember that there are six mil- 
lions in London.” 

44 And out of all of ’em you’re the one 4 she ’ to him. 
Importunity will be your master.” 

44 No better reason could be given for lying 
snug.” 

44 Snug ! Roustabout and bottle-washer in a nursing- 
home. Pah ! ” 

44 1 dare say I shall have my Sunday out to spend 
with you.” 

44 1 don’t know about that. You exasperate me; 
I want to shake and slap you, you sentimental sim- 
pleton ! ” 

44 Sentimental? That is the one thing I am not.” 

Miranda laughed. 

44 You are, you were, and you always will be a 
woman of sentiment.” 

Later they had tea together and muffins such as you 
get in London. The warmth, the atmosphere, the fa- 
miliar furnishings, and Miranda’s round, quizzical face 
moved Esther strangely. She wanted to laugh, and 
she wanted to cry; but she only laughed. Miranda 
prattled about her own affairs: the failures and suc- 
cesses of the theatrical season. My sister, Laura, ap- 
parently, had reaped a golden harvest, but not a penny 
of it had come Miranda’s way. 


1*781 THE PALADIN 

44 She was wonderful, my sister Laura, simply won- 
derful.” 

“ How can you mention her name after the way she 
has treated you? ” 

“ Tut — likewise, pish ! She is a very great artist 
and a very mean little woman. I am proud of her as 
artist. When I think of the delight she has given to 
hundreds of thousands ! ” 

44 She would let you starve.” 

44 I believe she would, poor dear.” 

44 Your family seems to have treated you abomi- 
nably.” 

44 1 have nothing to complain of.” 

At such moments this fat, rather ugly old woman 
provoked astonishment and admiration. Her enthusi- 
asm upon the sacred subject of her family never failed 
to arouse in Esther a curious envy and shame. It was 
whispered that the illustrious Charles James had ill- 
treated his wife, who adored him to the end. Esther 
was quite convinced in her own mind that Miranda 
would black my sister Laura’s boots if she were asked to 
do so. As for Charles Jagg, who, domestically speak- 
ing, was impossible, but had the finest delivery of any 
actor on the English stage, it was well known that he 
had bled Miranda almost to death a score of times. 

Was it possible to adore the artist and despise the 
man? 

Harry, playing the hero intermittently, jigged be- 
fore her eyes, so high up that it caused a crick in the 
neck to look at him. What he had done, in one sense, 
was a finer performance than anything of my sister 


THE PALADIN 


173 


Laura’s. It was fine even if you dared to think that 
it was acting. Why was she not thrilled? She wanted 
to be thrilled. Her imagination, trailing miserably 
upon the ground, yearned to soar. This became a 
source of irritation, a mental eczema most tormenting 
at night. Other women, some of the very best, took 
men as they found them, totted up their good and bad 
qualities, struck a balance, and thanked Heaven if it 
was not on the wrong side. If she could have done 
that with Harry all would have been well. 

But she couldn’t. 

Her daily task was apportioned next day. She was 
placed under the charge of the head nurse in the oper- 
ating-room, to learn the alphabet of the business, the 
art of cleanliness. 

“ Shall I be present at the operations ? ” 

“ Not yet. Probably never.” 

Esther smiled, indicating relief. The chief of her 
department, a tall, hard-faced woman, eyed her with 
a derisive contempt not easy to bear. 

“ Do I look hopeless?” 

“ You look too fine for the work.” 

“ 1 am not.” 

“ I hope so. Scrubbing much in your line? ” 

66 1 learned to scrub myself when I was three.” 

66 That’s something. All the same, I asked Mrs. 
Tower for a strong, healthy girl, not a young lady. 
You’ll have to go through the mill.” 

“ Naturally.” 

“ It won’t come natural to you. Far from it. Maybe 


174 


THE PALADIN 


she wants to see what stuff you’re made of. That’s like 
her. She gets every ounce out of me.” 

“Does she spare herself?” 

“ No, she doesn’t. But she’s cast iron. Now for 
your first lesson in scrubbing floors and walls and 
ceilings.” 

At half-past four tea was served in a room set 
apart for the nurses. Esther, without her uniform, 
attracted many glances. Most of those present were 
quite young women. They laughed and chatted upon 
the subjects and objects beloved of schoolgirls, were 
all playgoers and readers of novels, and interested in 
clothes. 

“ I mean to have that boa,” said one. 

“ The bore who took you to Earl’s Court? ” 

“ It’s mink, but you’d swear it was sable. I shall 
buy it to-morrow.” 

“ You don’t get off to-morrow.” 

“ He won’t live out the night.” 

Esther hoped that she didn’t shiver too conspicu- 
ously. The speaker was alluding to her patient. And 
yet she had not spoken heartlessly or with indifference. 
She simply stated a fact. Her patient happened to be 
a distinguished man, a cavalry officer, who had held 
a high command. “ Lights out ! ” had sounded for 
him, and he was sinking quietly. 

“I’d an awful time last night,” said another nurse 
with the freshest of cheeks. “ Couldn’t please, no mat- 
ter how hard I tried. Dead beat I was this morning. 
Toast ! Thank you ! ” 

“ I can stand their peevishness and ingratitude,” 


THE PALADIN 175 

said a third, 44 but when the doctor slates you because 
his patient won’t behave himself I call it thick.” 

“ Mr. Napier never does that.” 

“ Mr. Napier comes here still, does he? ” demanded 
Esther of the nurse next to her. 

44 Yes ; do you know him? ” 

44 I have met him — twice.” 

44 He’s a good sort, but cold, a regular icicle as far 
as women are concerned.” 

44 Is he married? ” 

44 Not he. Knows too much about us, perhaps. He’s 
started a sort of nursing-home at his house in Harley 
Street, where he has a wonderful laboratory. Mar- 
vellous operator he is! I’d like to see him at work.” 

44 Would you?” 

44 You’re too squeamish, eh? You’ll get over that. 
I fainted twice when I began. That was four years 
ago, at Bart.’s. I had my head chaffed off.” 

44 Do you all begin at the regular hospitals ? ” 

44 Most of us. I heard that you were given a job 
just for the asking. Bit of a pull somewhere, eh? ” 
46 No.” 

44 It’s odd. Perhaps you’re one of the lucky ones.” 

44 I should not describe myself as that exactly.” 

44 Well, if you can hold up your job you’ll be all 
right. We have to work here, but it’s the best train- 
ing-school in England.” 

Esther went to bed dog-tired but not unhappy. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE QUEST BEGINS AGAIN 

In certain parts of China, when things go inexplicably 
wrong, the villagers take out their Joss and trounce 
him. He is given to understand that he has not be- 
haved himself, and must mend his ways. Perhaps there 
are times in all our lives when the little god of Self 
is similarly treated. We take him out, see him as he 
is, an unbeautiful Joss, and thwack him. 

After reading Esther’s letter our paladin suffered 
acutely, but for the moment, indeed for several hours, 
he blamed not the Joss within but the fickle Jill with- 
out. With her he was quite furious, because she had 
knocked him off his perch. He might have called for 
bell and candle and Book and cursed her grievously, 
had he not been educated at Eton. 

He woke, next day, in less tempestuous mood, to 
find the sun shining and the wind transformed into a 
gentle breeze. Accordingly he ordered coffee to be 
brought to him under the chestnut treee, and there he 
saw Esther’s hat — a lamentable object, sodden, dis- 
coloured, limp, and shapeless. He remembered that he 
had thought of trampling it underfoot, and lo ! the 
elements had destroyed it. Our unconscious humourist, 
gazing at the dilapidated object, decided that the ele- 
ments had taken an unwarrantable liberty. He laid 
down the hat with a sigh, and thought sentimentally 
176 


THE PALADIN 177 

of burying it, cremation occurring to him as the more 
obvious and satisfactory rite. 

After breakfast he smoked a pipe. Then Babette 
appeared to ask the question not asked before. “ Would 
Monsieur want her services during the winter ? ” Mon- 
sieur replied in the negative, and then and there gave 
notice to both the girls. Monsieur was leaving the 
chalet as soon as possible, not to return. 

He smoked another pipe, thinking hard. Babette 
had upset him. She recalled to his mind the talk with 
Esther. Was it possible that Esther had inferred an 
intention on his part of leaving her to spend the win- 
ter alone? That, of course, would be so like a woman. 
Because he had not been in the mood to prattle about 
domestic details, she had leapt to an incredible con- 
clusion. Heavens ! It was likely that she had misap- 
prehended his motives. Want of trust! There you 
are! Yes — there you are, up to your neck in the fons 
et origo mali. Our paladin remembered a few Latin 
tags. One had to use ’em sparingly nowadays, but 
sometimes they came in handy. Want of trust! She 
thought, poor little dear, that she did not love him. 
Of course she loved him ; he had read love in her hazel 
eyes ; but she didn’t trust him. 

Magnanimously he blamed himself. Yes; he had 
been selfish. He took out his Joss and spanked it — not 
too cruelly hard, but as a wise mother spanks a be- 
loved child whose thoughtlessness may have caused 
serious disaster. He, with his wider experience, ought 
to have foreseen fog ahead. But, candidly, you never 
knew where you were with women. 


178 


THE PALADIN 


He smoked a third pipe. He was beginning to feel 
fairly comfortable. The sun floated upward, warming 
delightfully the air, chilled by the night’s rain; down 
in the willows near the river the chaffinches and tits and 
wrens were discussing their approaching journey south. 
They knew that winter was coming, but not to the 
place where they were going. What lessons an intelli- 
gent mind can learn from birds and beasts I The word 
“ winter ” had terrified his own little brown bird. Well, 
well, she and he would migrate together. 

He smoked a fourth pipe, which, admittedly, was 
one too many and a deliberate slap in the face to 
Babette, preparing a special 66 plat ” pour ce pauvre 
gargon abandonne! By this time he had almost con- 
vinced himself that things had turned out for the best 
— a favourite phrase of his ever since the notable in- 
crease in his allowance. Esther’s bolting heightened 
the dramatic effect of a final scene. He would not be 
hard on her. When all had been explained she would 
see him as Camber saw him, as the little Mater saw 
him, as, as, in short, he was ! 

He knew that she had fled to Miranda. How? You 
think that a stupid fellow would not have divined 
that. No man (or woman) is really stupid about 
things which very intimately concern themselves. Harry 
was aware that Esther had left a box full of clothes 
with Miranda, which she had not claimed, lacking a 
miserable five pounds. He was aware also that she 
had fled taking with her a handbag, and barely enough 
money to pay her travelling expenses. And in her 
letter she had avowed her intention and ability to 


THE PALADIN 179 

earn a living. Without proper clothes where would 
she be? 

Two days later he was ascending Miranda’s flight 
of stairs. The star class was rehearsing. This fact 
rather forced Miranda’s hand. To be quite frank, Miss 
Jagg had determined to play a very difficult part, the 
sort of part she liked, that of goddess out of the ma- 
chine. Esther was a darling little fool, and her Harry 
a distinguished and charming young fellow, who had 
behaved like a perfect gentleman. Miranda told her- 
self that he would be Viscount Camber some day. The 
twins presented a sufficiently substantial obstacle, but 
Miranda could jump over stone walls as well as see 
through them. Esther as Viscountess Camber posi- 
tively glittered. 

44 I beg your pardon,” said Harry, glancing at the 
class. 44 I won’t interrupt you now, but when can I 
see you alone? ” 

44 At two, to-day.” 

44 At two ; thank you. Have you seen somebody 
lately? ” 

To answer in the affirmative would have 44 given 
away ” her dear friend. Miranda smiled, and her 
pleasant voice rose in a carefully sustained note of 
interrogation. 44 What on earth makes you think 
that I should have seen somebody? Have you seen 
her?” 

44 I’ll tell you everything at two.” 

As the door closed three voices exclaimed with femi- 
nine shrillness : 64 Who’s that? ” 

44 That, my poppets,” said Miranda smiling, 44 is a 


180 


THE PALADIN 


charming young fellow, who may be a peer of the realm 
and a millionaire.” 

“ You named the hour, old dear; has he named 
the day ? ” 

“ Pish ! ” said Miranda loftily ; “ I’ll tell you this : 
He is interested, very deeply interested, in a charming 
girl, so you little fools needn’t go home to dream 
about him.” 

“ I know the name of somebody,” said one young 
lady, “ who was trying to escape from musical comedy 
into legitimate drama.” 

“ Tell us, Topsy, tell us!” 

Miranda had a moment’s uneasiness. Miss Topsy 
Touraine answered curtly: 

“ Alice Godolphin.” 

“ No.” 

“ Fact ! Saw ’em at supper together at the Savoy 
not a week ago. Seen ’em there over and over again. 
He’s Lord Camber’s nephew — isn’t he, Miranda? — 
and Alice thinks he’s the greatest thing on earth.” 

“ To work ! ” said Miranda crossly. 

The star class failed to please Miss Jagg that morn- 
ing. She behaved, so Topsy said, like a raging beast, 
and certainly she used teeth and claws upon Topsy, 
who was told flatly that the legitimate drama had no 
place for the likes of her, and that she wasn’t fit to 
walk on in a curtain-raiser. Topsy had talent, but 
sometimes she over-wagged her tongue. Miranda was 
furious, because poor Topsy had seen the paladin sup- 
ping with a good girl. 

At two, punctually, she received Mr. Rye with cour- 


THE PALADIN 181 

tesy. Harry spoke first, after greetings had been in- 
terchanged. 

“ I gathered from what you said this morning that 
Esther had not been here?” 

Miranda preserved silence inviolate. 

“ 1 found her, Miss Jagg.” 

“You found her?” 

Consummate art was revealed in speaking these three 
monosyllables. The mere intonation suggested sur- 
prise, admiration, and delight. Only one man on earth 
could have found Esther Yorke. What he had done, 
his success, in contrast to the failure of others, indi- 
cated heroic qualities. The classical scholar would 
have had a vision of Theseus. Harry realised once 
more that he stood upon the apex of the pyramid. Cer- 
tainly Miranda Jagg was an understanding person. 

“ Yes ; I found her.” 

He told his story for the third time; it would be 
ridiculous to suppose that it lost in the telling. And 
your true epic must not halt. It should flow smooth 
as Pope’s “ Iliad,” smooth and strong and deep, like 
the Niagara River above the falls. 

Miranda, with a cigarette between her lips, listened 
attentively. 

“ It’s my opinion,” declared Harry in conclusion, 
“ that she bolted because she thought — er — that I was 
not going to do the square thing. You take me?” 

“ Perfectly.” 

“ Can I say to you, Miss Jagg, that I am incapable 
of — er — doing the — er — other thing?” 

“You are a very noble gentleman, Mr. Rye.” 


182 


THE PALADIN 


“ Really, Miss J agg ! ” 

“ I never met any man like you.’’ 

“ Please!” 

“ Of course you are — dangerous.” 

“ I say, Miss Jagg ! ” 

“ I repeat, dangerous, to any girl’s peace of mind.” 

“ I have always stuck to Esther, you know.” 

Now this is exactly what Miranda wanted to know. 
Her experience with my brother Charles had been un- 
happy. If you can’t believe your own brother, whose 
word will you take? Charles was a gilt-edged liar 
about women and horses. Miranda’s voice was very 
silky when she murmured: 

“ There must have been — others ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Little teeny-weeny flirtations with married 
women ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ With fascinating members of my profession ? ” 

“ Never.” 

Had he forgotten Alice? It is improbable. Was 
he, then, a liar? Emphatically — no. But he stood 
poised at a giddy height, and he dared not risk a 
tumble. Your sprawling fellow looks such an ass. 
Miranda shook her finger. 

“Not even one? Come, come!” 

“Always Esther.” 

“ You ought to have been christened Joseph.” An- 
other name had occurred to her — Ananias — but she 
kept that to herself. 

“You like your joke, Miss Jagg?” 


THE PALADIN 


183 


“ I do, I do.” 

“ You told me that Esther left a box with you.” 

“ It is here still.” 

“ She must come for it.” 

“ It has been here two years.” 

“ Where can she be ? ” 

“ Probably in London.” 

“ I shall employ the detective who found her before.” 

66 You might do worse.” 

With that he rose to take leave. Upon the thresh- 
old of the room he turned, glancing at the shabby 
furniture and the shabby old woman in her shabby 
arm-chair. 

“ Miss Jagg, I wish you would let me pay you that 
five pounds. It would be doing me a kindness.” 

“ Oh!” 

The woman, not the actress, unveiled herself. She 
stood up, indecision quivering upon her lips. A really 
kind word had flown straight to her heart. 

“ I couldn’t allow that, Mr. Rye. But it’s nice of 
you to have thought of it, and — and ” 

“ Yes?” 

“ I hope you will find Esther. I shall try in my 
feeble way to help you. If I hear anything ” 

“ You will let me know. Good-bye.” 

When he was out of the house Miranda scribbled a 
note to Esther: 

H. has been here. He got nothing out of me. But I want to 
see you as soon as possible. Beg, borrow, or steal one hour. 

Yours ever, 


Miranda. 


184 


THE PALADIN 


Esther dropped in for half an hour next day. She 
was wearing her uniform, and looked charming, but she 
was not nearly so pretty — so Miranda decided — as 
Alice Godolphin. 

“ My dear, he wants to do the square thing. He 
told me so in just those words. He says he is incapable 
of anything else.” 

“ Do you doubt that? ” 

“ My dear, men will be men. They’re just like us. 
It’s all a question of temptation. Your Harry is won- 
derful, but let’s admit that he’s human, and have done 
with it. The point to keep in mind is that he wants 
to marry you.” 

“ It’s too late. Oh, Miranda, can’t you understand? 
I don’t love him. To marry him now would be shame- 
less, much, much worse than if I had really loved him, 
and stayed on at Mont Plaisir without marriage.” 

“ Lord ! What a little fool you are ! ” 

“ Perhaps. Anyway, I’m going to put in three years 
with Mrs. Tower. At the end of the first year I shall 
earn good wages ; at the end of the third year I shall 
have my certificate and be independent.” 

“ And you will be twenty-seven.” 

“ You must understand that I’m tied up tight. As 
a rule, the probationers get nothing for the first year. 
Mrs. Tower has made me an exception. She’s an ex- 
traordinary woman, Miranda. She’s nice to me, be- 
cause she liked Sabrina. Did you ever hear of such a 
funny reason? ” 

“ Often. Mrs. Tower wouldn’t stand in the way of 
your marrying Mr. Rye.” 


THE PALADIN 


185 


“ Of course not.” 

“ It’s not fair to let Mr. Rye scurry about London, 
spending time and money looking for you.” 

“ If you would tell him the brutal truth ? ” 

“ Certainly not. How can you chuck substance for 
shadow? ” 

“ He is substantial,” Esther admitted ; <fi and I dare 
say I’m a fool. But I don’t love him, and I don’t be- 
lieve that I have ever loved him. I’m not sure that I 
know him — the real Harry, I mean. He’s a sort of 
whirling blur. He reminds me a little of Henry Fitz- 
Roy on the stage. It’s dreadful to say such a thing 
after what he’s done, but I am almost convinced that 
he poses ! ” 

“ What an idea ! ” Miranda spoke scornfully, but 
she felt uneasy. She had asked herself a thousand 
times : “ Is this young man a poser ? ” And the ques- 
tion had not been answered definitely. 

“ Ideas are to us what facts are to men,” retorted 
Esther. “ 1 suppose I mustn’t let Harry spend any 
more money, but I don’t think he will. To use an 
expression of his, let’s mark time for a day or two.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


WHICH ESTABLISHES THE AXIOM, “ IT PAYS TO BE GOOD ” 

Harry had an interview with the detective who had 
found Esther in Southampton. Then he drove to Pont 
Street, where Lady Matilda was waiting to receive 
Esther with open arms. The absent-minded little puss, 
after much thought and even prayer, had determined 
to lay aside those vaulting ambitions which small 
mothers hopefully entertain for large sons. As a 
woman of the world she was prepared to make the 
best of a sorry business. Already she had, so to speak, 
soaped the ways over which Esther, secretly regarded 
as a derelict, might slide safely into the troublous 
waters of society. She had a word with Lord Cam- 
ber; and another with Dorothea, who happened to 
be passing through town. Lady Matilda admitted 
frankly that her daughter puzzled and sometimes dis- 
tressed her. Since her brilliant marriage you never 
knew, my dear, quite how to take her. George was too 
proud a man to complain, but if he was still satisfied 
with his wife he must be a person easily pleased. Doro- 
thea, secure in the possession of an enormous income, 
permitted herself the luxury of saying disagreeable 
things. Having listened to the amazing story, with- 
out comment or interruption, she remarked drily : 
“ Esther will give more than she receives ” — an as- 
tounding statement, and said with an air of finality 
186 


THE PALADIN 


187 

which made further conversation impossible. Dorothea 
brought the interview to an end by adding : “ I shall 
welcome her as a sister and come to the wedding.” 

To his mother poor Harry showed Esther’s letter. 

“ I am sure,” he affirmed solemnly, “ that she bolted 
because she didn’t trust me.” 

Then he related the Babette incident. 

Now, Lady Matilda’s cleverness, such as it was, must 
be regarded as a hard polish imparted by the constant 
attrition of the atoms that compose modern society. 
A woman of real perception would have read much 
between the lines of Esther’s letter. Lady Matilda, 
quite honestly, read one thing only. She glanced from 
the letter to her son, and then said: “ My poor boy, 
how simple you are ! ” 

Harry opened his mouth and closed it. He was pre- 
pared for anything except this. Simple he was, but 
never, never would he know it! He had reason to be- 
lieve himself to be a complicated and expensive piece of 
machinery, the best output of the Public Schools, the 
Universities, and the Services. Pie had cost a great 
many thousand pounds to perfect, and never doubted, 
or could doubt, that the money had been wisely in- 
vested. Simple? Oh, Lord! 

“ When I call you simple, dear, I mean that your 
nobility of character, your — er — romantic tempera- 
ment, and — er — generous disposition blind you com- 
pletely in this unhappy affair.” 

Harry smiled faintly. If simplicity walked arm in 
arm with these qualities, it was certainly an attribute 
not to be despised. Lady Matilda continued: 


188 


THE PALADIN 


44 Has it occurred to you, Harry, that Esther may 
have run away because she knew herself unworthy to 
become your wife? ” 

44 What do you say?” 

“Let us be perfectly calm! Did Esther give you 
her full confidence?” 

44 I never asked for it.” 

44 Naturally. You are a gentleman. But she owed 
you that at least. Do you know exactly how those 
last two years were spent?” 

44 I don’t. Perhaps I wanted to know. Then I felt 
I’d rather not know. I trusted her.” 

44 You trusted her. Well, I don’t say that your trust 
was wasted. Your wonderful trust may have inspired 
this letter and the running away. I believe it did. At 
the risk of hurting you, Harry, I must say plainly 
that a really delicate-minded girl, a perfectly pure 
girl ” 

44 Mother ! Be careful ! ” 

44 It’s my duty to speak. The kind of girl I should 
welcome as a daughter would not have compromised 
herself by staying on at the chalet after she recovered 
her senses.” 

44 What on earth could she have done ? ” 

44 Speaking personally, I — I do not hesitate to de- 
clare that I would sooner have thrown myself into the 
river.” 

He gasped. Despite his advantages this point of 
view had not occurred to him. 

44 You upset me very much,” he murmured. 

44 You are a clever man, Harry, and I am a silly, 


THE PALADIN 


189 


loving little mother, but I have this enormous advan- 
tage over you: I am a woman; and I know how 
women — nice women — feel. I don’t throw stones at 
poor Esther. Who am I to judge others? With her 

temptations even I ” She sighed; her pretty eyes 

became wet; she slipped her soft hand into Harry’s. 
He kissed it. 

44 Dear little Mumsie ! ” 

44 My darling, you have had a providential escape. 
Find Esther, provide for her, but don’t marry her! 
What am I saying? She says she doesn’t love you. 
Deliberately she says she doesn’t love you. You are a 
Rye. You have proper pride. Conceding, which I 
don’t admit, that she is all she should be, are you the 
man to persecute and bully a girl into marriage? 
Hardly ! ” 

44 I’m not that sort of cad,” said our paladin be- 
tween his teeth. 

44 If I were you,” said Lady Matilda, 44 1 should go 
abroad again. Leave me to tell a few harmless little 
fibs. It’s quite intolerable that you should make hu- 
miliating explanations to your uncle and Dorothea.” 

44 Does Doll know ? ” 

44 1 saw her yesterday, for a few minutes, on her 
way north. She was not at all nice to me.” 

44 She used to be Esther’s friend. What did Doll 
say? ” 

44 1 can give you her exact words, but her manner 
was odious — so very superior. 4 1 shall welcome Esther 
as a sister and come to the wedding.’ ” 

44 That sounds all right.” 


190 


THE PALADIN 


“ My dear Harry, every word she uttered, every 
glance confirms my opinion that she is quite heartless. 
I don’t think she cares much for me, or for you. She 
spoke disparagingly of you. No — I refuse to say an- 
other word. Dorothea will play her part. Marry any 
girl you like, and Mrs. Treherne will welcome her as a 
sister and come to the wedding in a frock that will 
turn every other woman pea-green with jealousy.” 

44 1 say, Mater, you are not quite fair to Doll.” 

“Perhaps not; she disparaged you.” 

46 What a detestable world this is ! ” 

44 One has to go canny. Now, look here, Harry. I 
wouldn’t interfere in this affair for all the world. I 
have the fullest confidence that you will do, as you 
always have done, the right thing. But I entreat you 
not to be rash.” 

The word was indiscreetly chosen. Harry frowned. 
Had he been rash upon that morning long ago when 
Esther slipped her hand into his, and edged close to 
him on the primrose-brocaded sofa, what misery might 
have been avoided ! Had he been rash when she opened 
her eyes and recognised him as her saviour, what rap- 
tures might have been his! 

44 1 am not likely to be rash,” he said stiffly. 

44 Often I see your poor father in you. Take twenty- 
four hours at any rate.” 

44 That’s sound,” said Harry. 

44 And let me know what you decide as soon as pos- 
sible.” 

44 You have upset me most awfully.” 

44 I’ve a racking headache myself.” 


THE PALADIN 


191 


6i I can’t think why I should have been picked out 
to endure these miseries and humiliations.” 

Lady Matilda was a staunch upholder of the Church 
of England, and, unless the weather was atrociously 
bad, never missed divine service. As she put it to Mrs. 
Rockingham Trigg upon a Sunday morning when 
Constance Malplaquet proposed bridge, “ You must 
consider the servants and the children, mustn’t you?” 
Also she had a serviceable collection of texts, which 
came in handy when you found yourself next a bishop’s 
wife, who might say the most appalling things about 
you if she had reason to suspect that you were a back- 
slider or Laodicean. With one of these texts she com- 
forted her unhappy boy. 

44 My dear,” she said, kissing his forehead, 44 4 whom 
the Lord loveth He chasteneth.’ ” 

The chastened paladin dined that night at his club, 
one of those very select and now moribund institutions 
where it is against the rules to entertain a stranger. 
Harry told himself that he could not stand a restau- 
rant, and, unfortunately, his mother, with whom he 
would have enjoyed a quiet evening, was dining out 
and playing bridge afterwards. The club, of course, 
was empty, much to our Harry’s satisfaction. He 
wanted to think things over. Nevertheless he ordered 
a dinner which indicated sound judgment, and a bottle 
of Latour ’75, a really great wine, guaranteed to chase 
blue devils out of the most impassioned pessimist that 
ever dined alone. As he sipped the first glass he told 
himself that life could never be the same again. Sip- 


192 


THE PALADIN 


ping the third — they have very large claret glasses at 
this particular club — he was prepared to swear that 
the little Mater had hit the nail on the head. Take 
a woman to catch a woman ! Esther had bolted be- 
cause — well, for the reason, by Jove! which would never 
have entered his head. Poor little Esther ! Poor, dear 
little girl! More sinned against than sinning! A fine 
phrase that, slightly hackneyed but so expressive ! By 
the time he had tipped up the decanter his thoughts 
were straying in the direction of the Terpsichore The- 
atre. Alice had been rather nice the other night. He 
had felt sorry for her. It was almost a duty to cheer 
her up. And she was so awfully — appreciative. And 
as good as gold! It exasperated him to think that 
she was playing at a music-hall. What choice had she 
in the matter, with a family of brothers and sisters to 
support ? 

He paid his bill, greatly cheered by the reflection 
that such a bottle of claret would have cost three 
times as much at a restaurant. 

A hansom took him to the stage door. 

Here a shock awaited him in the person of “ Pony ” 
Harbottle, a subaltern in the Household Cavalry and 
one of Alice’s boys — a smooth-faced, impudent young 
blackguard, who made love brazenly to every pretty 
woman he met, married or single. Alice, of course, 
could know nothing about him ; otherwise she would 
not risk being seen in such company. 

“ Hullo, Harry ! ” said the young gentleman. 
“ Come to play gooseberry, have you P ” 

“ How do you do, Harbottle ? ” 


THE PALADIN 


193 


Peach smiled upon Harry and scowled at the auda- 
cious youth, whom she stigmatised, even to his face, as 
a “ rotter.” Alice received Harry very prettily, consid- 
ering that she was furious at being caught by him 
alone with young Harbottle. 

<fi you’ll talk to old Peach, Harry, I’ll continue my 
little conversation with Alice. Peach wants buckin’ up 
a bit.” 

Harry ignored the rascal and spoke to Alice. 

“ I crossed last night.” 

This was satisfactory. A woman is always flattered 
when a man spends his first evening in England in her 
company. 

“ When are you off to Patagonia? It is Patagonia, 
isn’t it ? ” “ Pony ” interrupted. 

“No, it isn’t,” said Harry shortly. 

“Got a decent cigarette about you? Peach has 
smoked all mine, bless her ! ” 

“ I hav’n’t,” said Peach. “ I don’t hold with smok- 
ing, or drinking, or telling lies.” 

“ Harry, my boy, you’ll have to be careful with 
Peach. Thanks.” 

He took three cigarettes from Harry’s case and 
laughed genially. Harry was disgusted and showed 
it, to the delight of the soldier. Alice smiled upon 
both. Her smile had made her famous. She always 
smiled when her photograph was taken, and people 
living in the country who bought her picture-postcards 
inferred that her life as a dancer must be a happy 
one. At this particular moment her smile was informed 
with a certain subtlety, for she had conceived the idea 


194 


THE PALADIN 


of playing off the boy against the man. “ Pony,” as 
his nickname implied, was not an animal to be taken 
seriously, but even “ Pony ” might make the running 
for a bigger and finer horse. 

“Will you do me a favour? ” she said markedly to 
our paladin. 

“ If I can.” 

“ Have you an engagement to-night ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ I supped with you last time. Will you sup with 
me this evening? ” 

Harry’s face relaxed. Young Harbottle was being 
well snubbed, and Alice was doing it charmingly, with 
naivete and sweetness. 

“ I shall be delighted,” said he. 

“Will you join us?” continued Alice, turning to 
“ Pony.” 

“Will I? Just you and me and Harry?” Alice 
nodded. “ How cosy ! Harry, you’re in luck. I’ve 
some brand new jokes. You’ll be able to repeat ’em 
in Patagonia as your own.” 

Poor Harry had two hours of this twaddle. To 
make the matter more poignant Alice laughed joy- 
ously at the brand new jokes, and, seemingly, took an 
interest in young Harbottle unwarranted either by his 
manners or conversation. When the rascal had the 
grace to take himself off, being in no way anxious 
to pay for a cab to Clapham and back, she sighed, 
and murmured to Harry: 

“ I knew you wouldn’t mind my asking 6 Pony ’ ; he’s 
such a nice, unaffected boy, and devoted to me.” 


THE PALADIN 


195 


“ Damn him ! ” said Harry. 

“Oh, Harry!” 

“ He’s not nice at all ; and the sooner you know it 
the better. Even Peach sees that he’s the wrong sort. 
I tell you it’s compromising for you to play about 
with him.” 

“ I have no one to tell me these things,” faltered 
Alice. 

“ You have me. I’d like to take you out of this 
infernal music-hall. Good Lord! when I think of 
you ” 

She put a nicely manicured forefinger upon his lip. 

“You don’t think of me. Why should you?” 

“ I do think of you.” 

“ That’s all tommy-rot ! ” 

He winced, and she saw it, making a mental note: 
“ Tone down slang ! ” Harry spoke heavily. Latour 
’75 is a big wine, and at supper champagne had been 
drunk by the men. 

“ I think of you more than is good for my peace 
of mind. I want to be your friend — I swear I 
do.” 

“ They’re turning out the last lights,” said Alice. 
Then she added tremulously : “ I thought you wouldn’t 
mind seeing me home. Peach had to go ” (Peach, in- 
deed, had been dismissed) “ and mother hates my com- 
ing back alone.” 

“ I shall be delighted.” 

“ 1 believe you are a friend, Harry, a real friend. 

6 Pony ’ skedaddled because he thought he might find 
himself in the cart — in the hansom, I mean.” 


196 


THE PALADIN 


44 Just like him,” said Harry loftily. 

^He helped her tenderly into a hansom. It was 
nearly half-past twelve, but the night was delightfully 
clear, with a touch of frost in the air, just enough 
to make it crisp and exhilarating. After the grill- 
room, with its heavy odours of flowers and scent and 
rich food, the change was enchanting. They had an 
excellent horse in front of them, a capable driver be- 
hind, and the streets were clear of the heavier traffic. 
So they sped gaily on their way, between the shadowy 
rows of houses, with the lamps twinkling into endless 
perspectives. 

For a minute at least not a word was said. Each 
inhaled the fresh air greedily. Then Alice lay back 
with a little contented sigh. 

44 It’s heavenly, isn’t it? ” 

44 The best part of the evening,” Harry whispered. 

44 You don’t think I’m selfish, dragging you all this 
long way ? ” 

44 The longer the better. This fellow is driving 
much too fast. He doesn’t realise what a precious 
freight he’s got.” 

44 Bless you ! he knows me quite well.” 

Harry winced for the second time. Publicity was 
really a terrible affair to a well-ordered mind. Yes, 
this cabby knew, and every street arab knew — Alice 
Godolphin. Horrible ! Enough to freeze the hot blood 
of any true paladin. 

44 Are you very keen about the stage? ” he asked. 

44 Me? I hate it!” 

This, alas ! was a fib. Alice loved the stage, and 


THE PALADIN 


197 


always had loved it ever since she took part in Christ- 
mas pantomimes as a fairy at a pound a week: good 
wages, too. She adored excitement. She even liked 
being haled before the magistrates, who put searching 
questions about her education, which, indeed, had been 
rather neglected. Such excitements came to an end, 
and dull times followed during the three gawky years 
between fourteen and seventeen, when she dreamed 
nearly every night of triumphs to come and daily prac- 
tised the steps which lead to the temple of fame. As 
a child and young girl every pleasure she experienced 
was connected with the stage. To save her life she 
could not have pointed out Charles’s Wain or Orion, 
but she knew by name and sight every star in the theat- 
rical firmament. 

“ You hate it ! Why? ” 

Her answer surprised him. She burst into tears. 
Tears and laughter came swiftly to her. Nor was she 
acting. For the moment — such is the power of a big 
personality — she saw herself with Harry’s eyes; she 
had a glimpse of the wonderful real world encompass- 
ing the pinchbeck imitation bounded by scenery and 
footlights, the world in which the very perfect knight 
at her side filled an honoured place. And these tears 
resolved any doubts she might have entertained as to 
whether she truly loved Harry Rye. She did love him, 
thrilling at his touch, and she believed that she would 
be perfectly happy with him, even in Patagonia. 

“ My poor little girl ! ” 

His kind, pleasant voice, his firm hand upon hers, 
turned a shower into a downpour. Alice laid her pretty 


198 THE PALADIN 

head upon our paladin’s shoulder and sobbed trop- 
ically. 

May those who censure him for kissing her be never 
placed in such temptation! And we may quote Alice 
herself, describing the incident to her mother, when we 
add that the 44 canoodling ” (Alice’s word, not ours) 
was specifically paternal. 

Right or wrong, the treatment acted like a charm, 
and a very pretty scene followed. 

44 I couldn’t help it,” she whispered. 44 Don’t scold 
me ! ” 

44 Tell me your trouble, Alice.” 

44 We are such miles and miles apart.” Her head 
was still upon his shoulder, but we divine what she 
meant. 44 And I know you hate the stage and every- 
body on it. In your heart you despise me.” 

44 1 don’t.” 

44 You do. You can’t help it. There are hateful 
women at the Terpsichore; and I have to be civil to 
’em. And some of the men are worse; and I have to 
be civil to them, too. I’d jolly soon get the sack if 
I told ’em what I really think. I took it as it came, 
rough and smooth, till you appeared. Now ” 

44 For heaven’s sake, Alice, don’t begin again, dear! 
I can’t stand it, ’pon my soul. You make me feel 
rather cheap. Despise you? Don’t I know how many 
are dependent on you? All the same, if I could help 
you to get a job at a respectable theatre ” 

44 Ah ! you are a real friend. I told mother about 
you, and she said to me afterwards ; 4 Allie, that’s 

one of God’s good men,’ ” 


THE PALADIN 


199 


“ I should like to meet your mother.” 

“ You must. Poor mother ! 99 

Secretly she was of the opinion that the meeting 
should be deferred as long as possible. Some of God’s 
good men are a thought hypercritical. Harry said 
tenderly : “We are real friends now.” 

“ Oh, the blessed comfort of it ! ” 

He patted her hand when she snuggled up to him, 
sensible that he was in a pleasant but slightly awk- 
ward situation — one which challenged the training of 
a diplomat who happened to be also a man of heart. 
To have repulsed this quivering little creature would 
have been simply brutal. Now matters were on the 
happiest footing. 

“ Alice, dear ” 

“ Yes, Harry? ” 

“ We must put our heads together.” 

“ They are together,” said Alice, beginning to smile 
again. 

“ Why shouldn’t you play with actors like Henry 
FitzRoy, eh? ” 

“ Legitimate drama, you mean. Topsy Touraine is 
trying it. She’s with Miranda Jagg.” 

“ Do you know Miss Jagg? ” 

“ Only by sight. She’s teaching Topsy a lot. I’m 
cleverer than Topsy.” 

“ I don’t believe Miss J agg can teach you any- 
thing.” 

“ It’s very sweet of you to say that ; but of course 
she can. Anyway, I can’t break my agreement. I’m 
engaged till Christmas. Hullo ! here we are ! ” 


THE PALADIN 


200 

“ We’ll talk of this again,” said Harry. 

“ Sit still ! I can let myself in. Harry, I’ve always 
wanted a friend just like you. Good-night!” 

“ Good-night, dear ! ” 

He did not offer to kiss her. She jumped lightly 
from the hansom, turned, waved her hand, and laughed. 

“ It’s no use telling you to be good, because you 
always will be. Ta, ta ! ” 

With that she vanished. 

Twenty-four hours afterwards the detective called 
upon Harry at his lodging. Miss Esther Yorke was a 
probationer at Mrs. Tower’s Nursing Home, near Wim- 
pole Street. 

“ Sharp work,” said Harry admiringly. 

The inevitable note-book appeared. 

“ She landed at Southampton, travelled third class 
to Waterloo, took a ’bus, presumably, as far as Bed- 
ford Street, Strand, and then walked, perhaps, to Miss 
Jagg’s Dramatic Academy.” 

“She saw Miss Jagg? You are sure of that?” 

“ You told me she was likely to call, having a box 
of clothes there. I had the house watched. She’s been 
there twice at least.” 

“ Bless my soul ! ” exclaimed our paladin. The du- 
plicity of women confounded him. He could hardly 
believe that Miranda, such an understanding person, 
could have played him false. The detective received 
his cheque and Mr. Rye’s thanks. 

“ If you want me again, sir ” 

“ I don’t think I shall want you again,” said Harry. 

He spent a very bad quarter of an hour. If Mi- 


THE PALADIN 201 

randa knew, why did she hold her tongue? He had 
been quite frank with her. Unless his intelligence was 
gravely at fault Miranda liked him and esteemed him. 
Esther, then, persisted in hiding herself. Obviously 
such an amazing concealment could only be interpreted 
in one way. His mother had discovered the true 
reason. 

Esther was unworthy! 

Meantime she was provided for. Probationers in 
nursing homes do not starve. She had a loyal friend 
in Miss Jagg, certainly a remarkable actress. She 
wished to hide herself ; and a gentleman must respect 
that wish. One of Harry’s first thoughts was : 
“ Would little Alice have played fast and loose with 
a great love? ” 

He did not go abroad, but he was seen nightly at 
the Terpsichore Theatre. To Lord and Lady Cam- 
ber some harmless fibs were told. Lord Camber was 
engrossed with the fitting out of his yacht ; and Harry 
kept discreetly out of Grosvenor Square. A fortnight 
later his uncle sailed for the West Indies. 

After this our paladin accepted some shooting en- 
gagements ; but he wrote to Alice at least twice a week, 
and she answered his letters by return of post. The 
world and his wife might have read those letters, which 
were indeed models of propriety. Alice’s billets, as a 
matter of fact, were the joint composition of herself 
and Mrs. Snelling, a labour of love and ambition 
painstakingly accomplished with the help of a dic- 
tionary. 

And then, upon the eve of Harry’s departure for 
Buenos Ayres, a shocking cablegram reached London. 


THE PALADIN 


202 

During a violent tempest in the Caribbean Sea, the 
Albatross had foundered, going down with all hands! 

Miranda’s instinct had not failed her. Harry suc- 
ceeded to the family honours and estates, and the Dip- 
lomatic Service lost a faithful though not a brilliant 
servant. For the first time in his life our paladin 
found himself absolutely free to consider no will or 
wish other than his own. Accordingly we find him ex- 
hibiting a recklessness inherited from the blue-eyed 
guardsman and a chivalry which we know to be his 
particular attribute. For when Alice wrote a certain 
letter in which condolence struggled feebly with felici- 
tation she added a postscript : “ Of course, now , I 

shall never see you again ! ” And this postscript was 
nearly illegible, having been written by a hand that 
trembled, and below it Harry detected unmistakable 
signs of tears. It is due to Alice to state that when 
the tears fell she wished to rewrite the letter, but the 
wiser counsel of a mother prevailed. Three weeks later 
Henry George Augustus, Viscount Camber, was quietly 
married to Alice, eldest daughter of Albert Snelling, 
of Azalea Gardens, Clapham, S.W. The marriage 
created a sensation. The thoughtful pointed out that 
Miss Alice Godolphin was the seventeenth young lady 
who, beginning her career at the Jollity Theatre, had 
soared into the peerage. During the week that fol- 
lowed the announcement of the marriage the manager 
of the Jollity received more than a thousand applica- 
tions from maidens of high and low degree desirous 
of becoming choristers. In the 66 profession ” the axiom 
was established, 66 It pays to be good.” 


BOOK III 


CHAPTER XV 

AFTER FOUR YEARS 

“ Well, Mr. Napier, can you guarantee a cure?” 

Our paladin’s wife spoke petulantly. 

Sir Bedford Slufter answered: “ Dear lady! Only 
quacks guarantee cures. Mr. Napier, we trust, will 
treat your case to a satisfactory issue.” 

“ Upon certain terms,” Napier added. 

Sir Bedford bowed. Long before a baronetcy had 
been conferred upon him, he had safeguarded Harry 
Rye — it will be remembered — through sundry juvenile 
ailments. Now, admittedly, he was too big a swell for 
cases exacting sustained individual attention. Only 
personages had a first call upon his distinguished serv- 
ices. Short, broad, of over-ripe complexion, he was 
the antithesis of Napier, for whom he had ever-increas- 
ing respect as likely to rise high in his profession. In- 
deed, he had urged Lady Camber to put herself into 
Napier’s hands, and had brought her to Harley Street 
in his own carriage. Lady Matilda Rye accompanied 
her daughter-in-law. This was the first visit, and an 
exhaustive examination had just been concluded. 

“ Upon certain terms, of course,” repeated Sir Bed- 
ford. 

“That’s all right,” said Alice; “Camber will pay 
any bill.” 


203 


204 THE PALADIN 

Sir Bedford slightly shrugged his shoulders. Napier 
smiled. 

“ We are not even remotely alluding to fees,” mut- 
tered the elder man. He glanced at Napier, who 
nodded. “ And now we doctors must have a word to- 
gether — um? ” 

Lady Matilda rose, as Napier opened the door com- 
municating with the library. Sir Bedford assisted 
Alice to her feet and presented an arm upon which 
princesses had leaned gratefully. 

44 I can’t think why Harry is not here. He prom- 
ised.” She glanced at Lady Matilda, as if holding the 
mother personally responsible for the son’s absence. 

44 If Harry promised, he’ll be here,” Lady Matilda 
answered resignedly. 

44 Meantime, let me prescribe tea,” said Napier. 
44 You will find it in the library. We will join you in 
five minutes.” 

Sir Bedford led the way, with Alice upon his arm. 
Lady Matilda followed. Alice was installed in an easy 
chair near the tea-table. Sir Bedford deftly slipped 
a cushion behind the invalid, turned out a too glaring 
electric light, and with a reassuring smile vanished. 

44 Old stoopid!” said Alice. 44 This Napier man 
seems clever, but he’s cold as a last year’s bird’s nest. 
I wonder whether he ever saw me before I became a 
fright? I must ask him.” 

Lady Matilda glanced at her. Four years had 
greatly changed the captivating creature whom every- 
body had admired as Alice Godolphin. But she was 
not a fright yet. She looked terribly thin and ill: 


THE PALADIN 


205 


nothing left — so Pony Harbottle said — but her eyes 
and the famous picture-postcard smile. Lady Matilda 
spoke of her daughter-in-law as a “ wreck ! ” Harry’s 
mother had changed also. Always plump, she had be- 
come voluminous. Her pretty easy manner was degen- 
erating into an inept fussiness ; her ready smile had 
become fatuous and bewildered. Secure in the posses- 
sion of the handsome income settled upon her by our 
paladin, she had sought consolation among the flesh- 
pots for the bitter disappointment caused by his mar- 
riage. Her face had lost its delicate colouring : it was 
now pink and puffy. She wore an everlasting griev- 
ance upon her sleeve. She had no grandchildren! It 
was really heart-breaking to reflect that her magnifi- 
cent Harry remained without an heir when country 
curates were so injudiciously prolific. 

Loyal to her son, although condemning him in her 
heart, she maintained, with pathetic insistence, that he 
had behaved chivalrously in rescuing the girl he loved 
from the abominations of a music-hall. Cophetua 
again ! The beggar-maid had been good and beauti- 
ful, but ungrateful. She called herself an actress, but, 
seemingly, made no attempt to play the part of great 
lady. On the contrary, she appeared to take an imp- 
ish delight in setting on edge the teeth of her elders 
and betters. 

Within a year of marriage Lady Camber’s health 
began to fail. Certain imprudences in the hunting- 
field had dashed to the ground Lady Matilda’s hopes 
of holding a grandson in her arms. After this mis- 
adventure, anaemia exhibited itself. Also there was 


206 


THE PALADIN 


mental trouble. Alice felt intolerably lonely. The 
paladin, with his usual generosity, had given to Mr. 
Snelling a sum of money large enough to enable that 
gentleman to leave Clapham and to establish himself 
and his family in Canada. Alice never saw her own 
relations. And neither Harry nor his mother suspected 
how dear the practice of her profession had been to 
Alice, how greatly she missed the nightly excitement, 
the applause, the flattering press notices, the joy of 
seeing herself upon posters and postcards. To please 
the man she loved she promised not to skirt-dance in 
drawing-rooms, nor to mimic worthy persons who might 
take offence thereat. Nine months out of the year were 
spent at Camber Castle, where hunting was the prin- 
cipal topic of conversation. Of course she moped. 
Perhaps Peach, now her confidential maid, summed up 
the situation when she muttered to her mistress : 
“ You’re one as’d sooner reign in ’Ell, than serve in 
Heving ! ” And Alice had replied sharply : “ Y ou 

know me better than any of ’em ! ” 

Harry accepted his wife’s weakness as emphasising 
and magnifying his own strength. When she fell ill, 
he played his part with patience and fortitude. His 
mother assured him that he was wonderful, an assur- 
ance he had no reason to doubt. But as the months 
passed he became rather bored with his perfections, 
and, when alone with his wife, exhibited an impatience 
and irritability valiantly suppressed in public. Finally, 
Sir Bedford Slufter intimated, with the tact and good 
feeling which made him persona grata in palaces, that 
the case was becoming serious. French and German 


THE PALADIN 


207 


specialists were consulted, but Alice did not respond 
to treatment. The phrase was often in Harry’s mouth, 
She did not respond ! And she laughed at her doctors, 
poured their draughts out of the window, and dis- 
obeyed imperative instructions. Restlessness consumed 
her. Wherever she went, she chattered volubly, thrust- 
ing herself to the front, laughing too loudly, making 
grimaces, provoking the criticism of great ladies who 
had never accepted her as one of themselves. 

During the interview in the consulting-room Napier 
had asked the usual questions. His glance dominated 
her. She replied truthfully enough, sensible that she 
dared not fib because this man would find her out. 
Lady Matilda sat beside her, listening resignedly, but 
saying nothing. Sometimes she wondered if Alice had 
any idea of how Harry’s mother felt towards Harry’s 
wife. She had always hated her daughter-in-law, with 
that intense, suppressed hatred of which some of the 
dearest little women in the world are capable. But not 
an outward sign betrayed it. At the wedding she had 
smiled upon the bride, and ever since, with a placidity 
which exasperated thoughtless persons like Constance 
Malplaquet, she had continued smiling. 

“Of course you loathe her,” Lady Malplaquet once 
remarked. 

“ My dear Connie ! ” 

“Pouf-f-f! You know she’s impossible.” 

“ She is my Harry’s wife.” 

From that impregnable position the unhappy mother 
never moved. Did she ever think of Esther, soft- 
voiced, tender-hearted, sincere? Who knows? Esther’s 


208 


THE PALADIN 


name never passed her lips but once. When Harry 
returned from his honeymoon, Lady Matilda received 
the young couple at Camber Castle. Alone with her 
son, she whispered: “ Does Alice know about Esther? ” 
Harry winced. And his fine eyes had a slightly furtive 
expression, as he answered: 44 She does not know. 
Why should I tell her? She is a jealous woman. It 
might make her unhappy.” 

44 If someone told her — about that time in France.” 

Lady Matilda poured out the tea. 

44 No sugar for you, Alice, I believe.” 

44 Three lumps, please.” 

44 My dear ! I thought Sir Bedford ” 

44 Pm under Mr. Napier now. Do I see crumpets? ” 

“Muffins. You will not be so unwise ” 

44 Mr. Napier has not forbidden muffins — yet. Please 
give me a muffin.” 

The door of the consulting-room opened. Sir Bed- 
ford entered first, pausing in amazement as he per- 
ceived his patient in the act of biting a piece out of a 
muffin. 

44 You are not eating muffins?” he gasped. 

She ignored him, turning to Napier. 

44 Do you object to my making a good tea? ” 

44 On the contrary,” said Napier imperturbably. 

44 My dear Napier!” 

44 1 always encourage my patients to eat large teas.” 

44 Nice man ! ” exclaimed Alice. 

Napier continued: 44 You see it may prevent them 
from eating still larger dinners.” 


THE PALADIN 209 

Sir Bedford seemed to be struck by this point of 
view. 

Alice nibbled her muffin, staring- at Napier. 

“Ever see me dance at the Jollity? 99 she asked Na- 
pier. 

“ I remember Miss Alice Godolphin perfectly,” re- 
plied Napier. 

“More tea, Alice?” 

“ Please don’t shut me up, Lady Matilda. Pm not 
ashamed of having danced at the Jollity.” 

Sir Bedford interrupted suavely. 

“ Forgive me, but I am due at the Palace. The 
Princess is the most charming of women, but exigeante. 
And the Grand Duchess ” 

“ Before you go,” said Alice tartly, “ please tell me 
what’s to be done with me ? ” 

Sir Bedford cleared his throat and began melliflu- 
ously 

“ Dear lady, you must place yourself unreservedly 
in Mr. Napier’s hands. Speaking as his senior by some 
years, I can assure you that those hands of his 
are as skilful and kind as any pair in the pro- 
fession.” 

Alice looked at Napier. 

“ What do you want me to do? ” 

“ We shall send you back to Nature,” said Sir Bed- 
ford. 

“ Nature? Do you mean camping out? ” 

“ A rest-cure here.” 

“ Here? In this house? Our own comfortable house 
in Grosvenor Square could be got ready.” 


210 


THE PALADIN 


“ Even in Harley Street, Lady Camber, houses are 
not unprovided with comforts.” 

“ I didn’t mean that. If I must, I suppose I must. 
Can I have Peach? ” 

“ Peach? ” 

“ My old dresser. I told Harry I wouldn’t take him 
unless he took Peach, too. No ordinary maid would 
stand my tantrums.” 

She laughed shrilly. Then Napier said in his quiet 
voice, so curiously authoritative and convincing : “ If 

I undertake your case, you will see nobody for six 
weeks except myself and two trained nurses. We must 
exclude Peach and even Lord Camber.” 

“Why doesn’t Harry come?” said Alice fret- 
fully. 

Lady Matilda murmured : “ This rest-cure will be 

the very thing. We could never keep her quiet,” she 
explained to Napier. Alice frowned and wriggled in 
her chair. 

“ Do women of my position leave their own houses? ” 
she asked doubtfully. 

Sir Bedford replied : “ The Duchess of Belbury was 
Mr. Napier’s guest and patient for two months.” 

This seemed to impress Alice. Her face brightened 
as she said sharply : “ Why didn’t you mention that 
before? Was the Duchess as thin as I am? ” 

“ Thinner,” said Napier. 

“ Come now, I can’t believe that. Look here ! ” She 
lifted her skirt. “ Broomsticks, I call ’em. And they 
used to be the most fetching in town. Eh, Mr. Na- 
pier?” 


THE PALADIN 211 

Napier replied: “ I never saw a finer pair before or 
since.” 

“ I say, Mr. Napier,” continued Alice eagerly, 
“ what did the Duchess weigh in at ? ” 

44 Seven stone three.” 

44 And when she left you? ” 

44 Ten stone five.” 

44 Gracious ! And you can give me the same room 
and attention ? ” 

44 The same rooms, the same attention, and the very 
best nurse in the kingdom.” 

44 Then it’s a go, if Harry will let me leave him.” 
She stood up. 44 You’ve bucked me up enormously. I 
like you.” 

Napier bowed. Alice began to giggle. 

44 Standing is so bad for you,” murmured Lady Ma- 
tilda. Alice turned upon her savagely. 

44 There you go, shutting me up again. I — I ” 

She burst into tears, but Sir Bedford dealt master- 
fully with the emergency. He half supported the 
hysterical woman from the room, murmuring the rare 
right word pat to a voluble lip. 

Lady Matilda glanced at Napier and lifted her 
eyebrows. 

44 Will you take a hint, Mr. Napier? ” 

44 As gladly as a guinea.” 

44 Lady Camber has cried her life out for things my 
son couldn’t give her.” 

44 1 understand.” 

44 Lord Camber will be here in a few minutes. You 
have never met him?” 


THE PALADIN 


91 % 

44 Never.” 

44 He has been wonderfully patient with her. But 
he believes her to be in a rapid decline.” 

44 On that point I hope to reassure him.” 

44 Then you think ” She paused, nervous be- 

neath his steady gaze, sensible that an eager note had 
betrayed her. 

44 Lady Camber loves her husband,” he said abruptly. 
There was no interrogation in his tone. 44 1 have al- 
ways understood it was a love match.” 

44 Yes, yes,” she answered, turning her eyes from 
his. 

44 Thank you for your hint.” 

44 When do you wish Lady Camber to come here ? ” 

44 As soon as I can make the necessary arrangements. 
Good-bye.” 

He accompanied her as far as the door. Alone, his 
face changed, became softer, without losing, however, 
the tense look peculiar to men who love a fight for a 
fight’s sake. A moment later he smiled; and his ex- 
pression altered. The natural kindliness of the man, 
his humanity, his ever-increasing desire to mitigate suf- 
fering, shone out radiantly. 

Opposite the consulting-room door was another door 
opening into a large laboratory built out at the back 
of the house. Napier touched a bell, answered by his 
confidential servant, Buckle. 

44 If Lord Camber calls, show him in here, Buckle. 
I am expecting Lady Arthur Freshwater by appoint- 
ment. Show her ladyship into the consulting-room.” 


THE PALADIN 


213 


“ Very good, sir.” 

Buckle disappeared. Napier looked at his watch. 
Then he crossed to the laboratory door, opened it, and 
said: “Miss Yorke.” 

Esther entered. 

She wore a big pinafore, covering her gown, and in 
her hand was a memorandum-book. A mature woman 
of twenty-eight, she still retained a look of youth, al- 
though mere chocolate-box prettiness had gone out of 
her face. No one beholding her could doubt that she 
had passed through chastening ordeals. Her manner, 
once youthfully exuberant, had become quiet. She 
moved with a light, confident step which indicated dis- 
cipline. 

Napier sat down at his desk, while she stood at 
attention opposite, her eyes watchfully upon his, wait- 
ing for him to speak first. 

“ Any results ? ” 

“ Nothing positive. I’ve jotted down a few things.” 

She handed him the memorandum-book, at which he 
glanced. It was part of her daily duty to watch cer- 
tain of his experiments during his enforced absences. 
He returned the book, nodding absently. Then he said 
abruptly : 

“ I’ve another nursing case for you, a very impor- 
tant one: something like the Duchess of Belbury’s.” 

“ Oh!” 

“ Only more complicated. We have functional heart 
trouble and anaemia. Sir Bedford Slufter is very pessi- 
mistic. Two Germans and one Frenchman have tried 
and failed,” 


THE PALADIN 


214 

“ Makes it exciting for you.” 

“ For us. You will have more to do with it than I. 
The patient is one of those nervous, restless, irritable 
creatures who require the most delicate handling. 
Frankly, I wouldn’t undertake the case without you.” 

He spoke warmly, and Esther’s eyes brightened. 

“ I shall begin to purr in a moment.” 

“ You know I never flatter. Your tact, your pa- 
tience, your good temper with the Duchess — eh?” 

Esther was smiling. Napier tried to interpret this 
particular smile, not successfully. It baffled him, being 
compounded of interest, amusement, and a certain 
deprecating derision. Esther said lightly: 

“ I suppose Sir Hubert Stanley only praised when 
he wanted something very badly. You half promised 
me that there was to be no more nursing. Are you 
dissatisfied with my work in the laboratory? ” 

“ On the contrary.” 

“ Will it be day- or night-work?” 

“ Day, but you can sleep here. That will make it 
easier for you.” 

“ I can’t sleep here.” 

“ As you please. I can count on you, eh ? ” 

“ Of course.” 

“Thanks.” Then, in a different voice, he added: 
“ I knew I could.” 

She eyed him more intently. She had come to ac- 
cept his physical defects, the frail body, the too pale 
face, the awkward movements, as emphasising and in- 
deed embellishing the fine head. But, hitherto, with a 
certain perversity of mental vision, she had insisted 


THE PALADIN 


215 


upon regarding Napier as a mechanic rather than a 
man. And she had perceived from the first — not with- 
out amusement — that he regarded women as machines 
necessary to carry on the principal business of the 
planet. He could take them to pieces and put them 
together again. Often she had wondered whether he 
would ever own one. Upon occasion Napier spoke of 
affinities other than those technically chemical. But 
here, again, he preferred to deal with abstractions. He 
asked no personal questions; he never spoke of him- 
self as apart from his work. Esther dared not affirm 
that he was happy in his work, but he took delight in 
talking about it and around it. She had come to him 
at a critical moment, upon the very eve of his dis- 
covery of the now famous vegetable alkaloid, Talin, 
which he had succeeded in isolating from a newly- 
discovered South- American plant. Esther, indeed, had 
a finger in the wonderful pie. And she had beheld him, 
as in the picture at the New Gallery, test-tube in hand, 
gazing intently at a colourless fluid which represented 
years of thought and months of labour. Talin was a 
poison which left no traces in the human system, but 
was likely to prove, in infinitesimal doses, a remedial 
agent of the highest value. Since its discovery Esther 
and he had been searching for a reagent, without 
which its introduction to the Pharmacopoea must be 
reckoned perilous in the extreme. 

Esther hesitated — then she said: 

“ I suppose you know I loathe nursing? 99 

She spoke with a vehemence w r hich surprised Napier. 
He, for his part, regarded Esther as the heaven-bom 


216 


THE PALADIN 


nurse trained by Mrs. Tower to perfection. Out of 
all the nurses in London he had chosen her to be his 
assistant in the treatment of the Duchess. This illus- 
trious patient tried to kill both of them. Napier said 
afterwards that the pounds of good solid flesh with 
which he covered her bones had been taken from Esther 
and himself. Upon Esther, he was well aware, the 
strain had been terrific. She had broken down under 
it. Accordingly, he insisted upon a long holiday, and 
then offered her a well-paid position in his laboratory. 
For more than four months she worked beneath his 
roof. In a sense, not unpleasing to either, she became 
part of the laboratory, part of his work, and a part, 
moreover, which animated the whole unmistakably. He 
acclaimed in her automatic accuracy and self-reliance, 
the result, really, of three years’ training under Mrs. 
Tower. It had tickled Esther’s sense of humour to 
perceive how greatly this veneer imposed upon Napier, 
who took for granted that she was solid all through. 
She had wondered whether he would be shocked when 
he found her out, and envisaged the real woman. 

44 You loathe nursing? ” 

Esther laughed. Really, he must be made to see 
certain things. 

“ You are amazed. You believe that I like nursing. 
I’m naturally pleasure-loving. I adore pretty things. 
I hate plain food, and plain people, and plain talk.” 

44 This is plain talk, Miss Yorke. Won’t you sit 
down? Let us have it out.” 

44 1 shall be glad to have it out, because for weeks 
I’ve been sailing under false colours.” 


THE PALADIN 


217 


“You are fond of pretty things? ” 

Obviously the speaker had a mild contempt for 
pretty things. 

“ Fond! The absence of the pretty things I used to 
have has made me too fond of them. And now, as a 
penance, I hang about counters where anything and 
everything is offered for ninepence.” 

“ I used to hang about the tuppenny bookstalls 
when I was a medical student.” 

At his sympathetic tone a slight colour flowed into 
her cheeks. Had each of them, with guileless misap- 
prehension, reckoned the other to be a machine? They 
were silent, half bewildered by new and strange specu- 
lations, when Buckle entered, followed by a tall, dis- 
tinguished-looking man. 

“ Lord Camber,” he announced, adding, “ Lady Ar- 
thur Freshwater is in the consulting-room.” 

Napier stood up and greeted his visitor, before he 
said to the butler, “ Tell her ladyship that I will be 
with her immediately.” 

Esther half turned aside, as yet unrecognised by the 
lover from whom she had fled four years before, whom 
she had not set eyes on since. Her first instinct was 
to slip from the room. Her heart began to throb, and 
weakness attacked her knees: that paralysing, unrea- 
soning fear which, years before, had assailed her in 
Piccadilly Circus, and again and again afterwards, but 
never of late. She heard Napier’s voice: “You will 
excuse me, but I must see Lady Arthur? ” and Harry’s 
familiar tones: “Yes, yes; I am sorry to be late; 
I’m in no hurry. I ” He broke off. Esther knew 


218 THE PALADIN 

that he had seen her. Summoning her fortitude, she 
raised her eyes. 

“ Miss Yorke!” he exclaimed. 

His tone barely challenged Napier’s attention, noth- 
ing more. He guessed that Esther Yorke and Cam- 
ber had not met for some years; and, knowing noth- 
ing of their past relations, divined that there might be 
a slight mutual embarrassment. 

Esther held out her hand with admirable self-con- 
trol. 

44 Miss Yorke is an old acquaintance of mine,” Harry 
explained. 

His boldness saved the situation, but it frightened 
Esther. Harry was bigger, and looked formidable. 

Napier said: 44 Then I shall leave you together for 
five minutes.” Abruptly he nodded, and hurried into 
the consulting-room. 

Harry approached Esther, with a ponderous inev- 
itableness which suggested an advancing fate. She did 
not shrink, but inwardly she quailed, seeing interroga- 
tion in eyes not so clear nor so finely coloured as they 
used to be, but more masterful. In a flash she com- 
prehended that he had changed, and that his self- 
confidence, never too small, had swollen to monstrous 
dimensions. 

44 What are you doing here?” he said. 


CHAPTER XVI 


ESTHER JUSTIFIES EXPECTATION 

She answered demurely, 44 I work in the laboratory.” 

He glanced about him. The room was austerely fur- 
nished, the library of a man scornful of accessories. 
Books, not conspicuous for fine bindings, lined the 
walls. The chairs and tables were of mahogany, sub- 
stantial but not beautiful. Through the open door 
of the laboratory Harry could see whitewashed walls, 
a long deal table covered with apparatus, retorts, rows 
of test-tubes, crucibles, and such chemists’ gear. 

46 1 heard you had become a nurse ; you always 
wished to earn your own living.” 

44 And I have done it.” 

A note of triumph displeased him. He perceived 
that the spirit crushed by outrageous fortune reani- 
mated her again under happier conditions. 

44 You treated me without much consideration,” he 
murmured, with a side glance at the door of the con- 
sulting-room. Then he added, 44 1 shall not refer to 
that again.” 

44 Thank you.” 

Obviously he wished her to be impressed by his mag- 
nanimity and indifference. He had the air of a 
magnate who could afford to overlook misconduct in 
a social inferior, and who was aware that his smile to 
a mere breadwinner meant encouragement, a benedic-. 

219 


220 


THE PALADIN 


tion, and his frown — chastisement. Esther continued, 
after a moment’s hesitation, “ You think I behaved 
shabbily, but that is because you can’t get outside 
yourself. After all, why should you?” 

“ What do you mean? ” She had always known that 
his wits worked slowly. Time had not quickened their 
action. 

“ You are so big, a person of such importance. 
How can you stand in my shoes ? ” 

“ You are laughing at me ! ” 

“ If I could, if I did, ought a lion to grudge such 
tiny compensation to a mouse? Meeting you again, 
knowing to what dizzy heights you have climbed, I 
might well laugh at the irony of things, for I have a 
sense of humour, my lord.” She dropped him a curt- 
sey. Of course he could not see beneath a pitiful at- 
tempt to speak lightly. He pronounced her frivolous, 
a coquette, and thus cqndemning her was more sensible 
of her charm than ever. Because she did not cringe, 
he said, almost rudely, “When is this doctor coming 
back?” 

At his words fear again assailed her. Why was 
Harry here? She had seen even bigger and stronger 
men walk into hospitals and consulting-rooms. 

“ You are not ill, are you? ” 

“Would you care tuppence if I was? 111? I never 
was so fit.” 

“ Then why are you here ? ” 

“ To meet my wife. I was delayed at the club.” 

“ Is Lady Camber ill ? ” 

“ She is very ill indeed,” he answered. “ For three 


THE PALADIN 


221 


years we have tried everything and everybody. It 
has been terrible for her and for me. I have almost 
lost hope.” 

“ I’m so sorry, I — I ” She broke off, seeing, 

so to speak, two and two, but unable to make four of 
them. 

“However, they tell me this Napier is a miracle- 
worker.” 

“ Good Heavens ! ” 

“ What’s the matter? ” He spoke more kindly. 

“ I have just promised to nurse your wife ! ” 

His face hardened again, as he perceived that some- 
thing other than his personal distress had moved her. 
He looked at her steadily, beholding in her a more 
subtle and alluring beauty. If she nursed his wife 
he would see her! He had just touched the fringe of 
this not unpleasant conviction, when he felt her fingers 
upon his sleeve, and her low, soft voice murmured, “ Of 
course I shall withdraw.” 

“ And give this doctor the reason ? ” 

“ Certainly. Why not ? ” 

“ Because I forbid you to tell a stranger something 
which intimately concerns me. I don’t want outsiders 
to know that you made a fool of me. And besides ” 

« Well?” 

“ There is another reason ; my wife knows nothing 
of what passed in France.” 

“ Surely she has heard my name ? ” 

“ I don’t think so. We were never engaged. Peo- 
ple have forgotten. My wife is an intensely jealous 
woman, and in her present state of health the least 


THE PALADIN 


$22 

thing drives her wild with hysteria. For her sake, for 
my sake, find some other excuse. Personally, if it is 
your profession, I see no reason why you shouldn’t 
nurse my wife.” 

“ Mr. Napier is coming back.” 

She had heard the tinkle of a distant bell, and, an 
instant later, Napier entered the library. He ap- 
proached Harry, and said quickly, “ Odd thing you 
should know Miss Yorke. Has she told you that she 
has promised to nurse Lady Camber? ” 

“ Yes,” said Harry. 

Immediately Esther returned to the laboratory, leav- 
ing the two men alone. Napier said with enthusiasm: 

“ The very best nurse in London, bar none.” 

“ Indeed.” His air of constraint slightly puzzled 
Napier, but he supposed that Harry was thinking of 
his wife. His next words gave colour to this. “ You 
have formed some opinion already?” 

“ Oh, yes. Happily, Lady Camber has youth on her 
side. But she must place herself in my hands for at 
least six weeks. I cannot permit even you to see 
her.” 

“ As you will. Brains and money in combina- 
tion ” 

“ And something more, Lord Camber.” 

He spoke gravely. Instantly our paladin became 
sensible that a demand was to be made upon him; as 
instantly he responded, because we know what an ap- 
petite he had for the good opinion of his fellows. 
Napier impressed him favourably. 

“ Anything s I can do — you have only to speak.” 


THE PALADIN 


223 


“ Brains and money together do work miracles, but 
brains and money seem to have failed to restore Lady 
Camber’s health.” 

“ True, true ! ” Since he had become a distinguished 
ornament of the House of Lords, our Harry had cul- 
tivated a slightly impressive manner, well suited to a 
man approaching the prime of life, and beginning to 
be recognised as a pillar of the State. In the cartoon 
of him which appeared in “ Mayfair ” he is represented 
in peer’s robes and coronet, with the superscription, A 
Legislator. One felt that he could and would lay down 
the law. 

“ At the end of six weeks I hope that Lady Cam- 
ber will be strong enough to see you. Everything will 
depend then on you.” 

“ On — me? ” 

He repeated the words to gain time, for Napier’s 
frankness was upsetting. Positively this fellow as 
good as hinted that till now the husband had not done 
his part. 

“ On you,” said Napier. He saw that he stood on 
thin ice, and skated swiftly over it. “ I may be 
wrong,” he continued, “ but, to-day, meeting Lady 
Camber for the first time, I gathered from a certain 
defiance of voice and manner that life is not very al- 
luring to her.” 

“ In her wretched state of health how could it be 
alluring? ” 

“ If I’m any judge of character, I’m sure that Lady 
Camber is of an affectionate disposition. If that is 
true, I count on your cordial co-operation.” 


THE PALADIN 


224 ) 

“ You shall have it,” said Harry heartily, holding 
out his hand, which Napier grasped with warmth. In 
the doctor’s eyes lay the expression so familiar to our 
paladin: the recognition of the right thing indicated 
by the modest word. Harry walked solidly upright 
towards the door, paused, and returned. The look upon 
his handsome face was now not so easy to interpret. 
To the keen eyes watching him there seemed to be a 
flicker — one could call it nothing else — of furtiveness. 

“ If Slufter and those foreigners are right ? ” 

Napier said nothing. 

“ If — if she does not recover, tell me the worst ; I 
can bear it. If things do not go right, how long will 
it be before ” 

He broke off with agitation. Napier was thinking, 
He does love this poor creature! The slightly furtive 
look had vanished. Unmistakable emotion thrilled Har- 
ry’s voice. Napier answered slowly: 

“ Such questions are very difficult to answer, Lord 
Camber.” 

“ Man ! don’t fence with me ! I want to know how 
I stand. Is this terrible, grinding uncertainty to go 
on for ever and ever?” 

“The next month will make an enormous difference. 
If Lady Camber is amenable to my treatment, I can 
promise her a new lease of life. But,” his voice changed, 
“ if she is not ” 

“ Yes?” 

“ The end must inevitably be soon.” 

In silence Harry left the room. Napier touched the 
bell, and then crossed to the laboratory door. As 


THE PALADIN 


225 


he opened it and summoned Esther, there was an 
inflection of triumph in his voice, as if he knew 
positively that he would succeed where others had 
failed. 

Esther came in wearing a hat, and gloved. The 
hat was new and became her vastly well. Seeing Na- 
pier’s glance, she said with a forced smile: 

“ You like my new hat? ” 

“ Very much.” 

“ Wise women put their savings into a penny bank ; 
I’ve put mine into a hat.” 

“ Spendthrift ! ” He gave an ambiguous laugh, and 
continued in a different tone, “ This Camber case in- 
terests me enormously. You are not in a hurry, are 
you? No? Good!” He placed a chair for her, but 
did not sit himself. Instead he paced slowly up and 
down, his habit when deeply moved or excited. Esther 
watched him, with half-averted eyes. He burst out 
vehemently : 

“ I must save this woman. Did you ever see her 
dance ? ” 

“ Never!” 

“ An enchanting creature ! So graceful, so pretty 
— and a capital mimic! At the time of the marriage 
worldly people sneered at Camber. But I respect him. 
He married the girl he loved in defiance of public 
opinion. And then, I take it, he made his first great 
mistake. He tried to turn her, or she tried to turn 
herself, into somebody else — a great lady. How ab- 
surd! I had a hint from the mother. Lady Camber 
has cried her life out for the things that her husband 


226 THE PALADIN 

could not give her; but she loves him and he loves 
her.” 

“Ah!” said Esther. 

“ Pm very sorry for Camber. Unless his wife is 
transformed into what she was, the best thing that 

could happen for everybody concerned would be ” 

He completed his sentence with a gesture. Then, tri- 
umphantly, he added : “ But we’re going to trans- 

form her into what she was.” 

“Mr. Napier?” 

« Yes ? „ 

“ I’ve been thinking that I can’t undertake this 
case.” 

He stood still, staring at her, astounded. 

“You refuse to help me! Why?” 

In her nervousness and confusion she made an idiotic 
answer, “ I don’t feel up to it.” 

He repeated the words contemptuously: 

“You don’t feel up to it?” 

“ I told you I loathed nursing.” 

He examined her attentively, frowning, and pulling 
at his chin. 

“ You are quite strong again, surely ? ” 

“ Thanks to you, yes.” 

“And free? No ties?” 

“ Free for ever and ever.” 

Then she laughed, thinking of her freedom, and what 
it meant. Was freedom always a synonym for slavery? 
She had emancipated herself in one sense, but she re- 
mained and must remain bound to the drudgery of 
uncongenial tasks, of a life of hard work. 


THE PALADIN 


“Why do you laugh, Miss Yorke?” 

“ Is anybody really free in this world? ” 

“ Have you been unhappy here ? ” 

The kindliness of his voice moved her, but she had 
come to recognise this as a warming wine, always, so 
to speak, on tap. He spoke kindly to everybody, be- 
cause he was interested in everybody. With an ef- 
fort she replied evasively: 

“ I’ve enjoyed my luncheons here very much.” 

“ I’m glad.” 

“ The food was so good ! ” He appeared discon- 
certed. She went on at random, “ And I’m so greedy ! ” 

“You say you loathe nursing, but do you loathe 
the results of such nursing as yours ? ” She remained 
silent. He continued incisively, “ Do you think that 
I enjoy certain parts of my work? But the rewards 
are ours. I don’t speak of money or honours.” 

“ I know that, Mr. Napier.” 

“We have great moments. To see what can be 
done, and to do it. Ah ! That is worth while. And I 

thought that you ” He broke off, trying to read 

her. Shamefacedly, she met his eyes, and then, un- 
able to bear their interrogation, lowered her lids. She 
heard him say, “ You regard me as your friend? ” 

“ I am proud to be your friend, Mr. Napier, if only 
in a laboratory.” 

“ A laboratory ? ” 

He reflected that he knew nothing of her outside 
the laboratory. 

“ One doesn’t expect to find friendship in a labora- 
tory.” 


ns THE PALADIN 

“ Even romance may be found in such an unlikely 
place.” 

“ Wouldn’t iodoform destroy its fragrance? I am 
rather a weak woman, Mr. Napier. Does that surprise 
you very much?” 

He answered gravely, in striking contrast to the 
attempted lightness of her tone and manner: 

“ Pm thirty-eight. Nothing surprises me very much. 
I regard surprise in a medical man as a sort of twin 
to ignorance. Weak, are you?” 

“ 1 have to consider myself. It is vital to me to keep 
my health. If this is a case like the duchess’s ” 

“ More difficult.” 

“ Then I cannot risk another breakdown. I am very 
sorry.” 

Deliberately she averted her eyes. 

“ I sha’n’t let you break down. Come, come ; I won’t 
take a refusal. I couldn’t have believed that you 
would desert me, or flinch from a good fight. It will 
be a good fight, believe me.” 

“ There are dozens of other nurses.” 

“ I’ve told you that this is not a case for an or- 
dinary nurse. It will be your duty to straighten a 
warped mind.” 

She stood up, trembling and irresolute: 

“ I can’t,” she murmured weakly. 

He laid his hands upon her shoulders ; she could feel 
the pressure of his fingers upon them, and flowing 
from them his irresistible will dominating and over- 
whelming hers. One reason alone, the true one, would 


THE PALADIN 229 

be accepted as adequate : all others would be treated as 
straws to be pushed aside. 

“ I know you better than you know yourself. You 
are not going to back out of this. You are not , I 
say.” 

His courage began to animate her. If her services 
were really indispensable ! And if — a more in- 

sidious thought — if any effort on her part could wipe 
out that vast unpaid indebtedness to Harry, ought she 
to hesitate? Might not this be regarded as a Heaven- 
sent opportunity? She owed much to Napier; more, 
infinitely more, to Harry. Each demanded a service 
at her hands. 

“ Very well ; I will not back out ! ” she said impetu- 
ously. 

Her sudden surrender had fascination in it. He was 
pleased and touched, but he divined a reticence. Surely 
a woman of her character and intelligence had a better 
reason for trying to withdraw than the one she had 
offered. 

“ I knew you couldn’t and wouldn’t. Together we’ll 
pull her through, eh ? ” 

His note was triumphant, that of a conqueror; but 
she answered with a vague sense of impending disaster, 
with the more clearly defined conviction that her in- 
stincts had been too ruthlessly crushed: 

“ Perhaps.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


MIRANDA WRITES A LETTER 

Leaving Harley Street, Esther walked to Oxford Cir- 
cus, and thence down Regent Street. A Londoner born 
and bred, she adored this huge, wonderful city, not for 
its architecture, not for its squares and parks, but 
for its unexpectedness, its romance, its intimate charm 
and colour and ever-varying light and shade. Most 
of all she loved it when night was closing in, when 
the myriad lamps flickered out of misty vistas, twinkling 
like fireflies in an Italian podere . Most strivers share 
this subtle pleasure in 44 lighting-up ” time. For one 
reason, it proclaims their release from toil, the end 
of a dull drab day, spent in ill-ventilated, ill-lit rooms, 
in the pursuit of a monotonous and exhausting occu- 
pation. The light is indeed 44 kindly 99 to all of us who 
are constrained to live in 44 encircling gloom ! 99 

It was late October, and the winter season had be- 
gun. Already the smart women were arrayed in furs. 
Esther never saw a fine set of sables without reflect- 
ing with a pang that she had sold hers to keep the 
hat-shop open a few weeks longer, a wicked waste of 
time and material. She swung along briskly, pausing 
now and again to peer into shop windows, for many 
years a never-failing source of entertainment. It 
amused her to select the best of everything and, in 
fancy, to buy it regardless of cost. Thus, having 
230 


THE PALADIN 


231 


glutted, so to speak, imagination, she would, with a 
humorous realisation of facts as they were, spend a few 
pence or shillings upon the humblest wares. As a rule, 
she shunned these gorgeous thoroughfares, because they 
aroused emotional regrets which she condemned. In 
a sane and philosophical mood, she would return home 
by Charing Cross Road, for example ; the shorter route, 
indeed, and one commended by Miranda Jagg, with 
whom she lived. 

She bought a bunch of chrysanthemums in Piccadilly 
Circus, and, passing one of the famous theatres, no- 
ticed that Laura Jagg was advertised in letters of 
fire as about to appear in a new play. 

Laura Jagg! 

The mere mention of the famous actress’s name 
aroused murderous thoughts. Laura earned fifty 
guineas a week at least, but Miranda, failing in health 
and fortune, never received a sixpence out of this 
princely salary. And yet, in a sense, Laura owed her 
first start in life to the elder sister. The Iron Duke, 
we have been given to understand, was under similar 
obligations to the head of his family, but on the morn- 
ing of his brother’s death, he is reported to have said, 
“ Lord Wellesley is dead. An agreeable man, when he 
had his own way ! ” 

Esther might have offered to Napier one reasonable 
excuse for refusing to nurse Lady Camber. At night 
she was often called upon to minister to her old friend. 
She was aware also that Miranda’s illness four months 
before had been the real cause of her own breakdown. 
Napier never guessed that his pet nurse, in defiance of 


232 


THE PALADIN 


Mrs. Tower’s ironclad rules, was devoting her mind and 
body to two patients. Nor did Miranda suspect at 
the time what inordinate demands the Duchess of Bel- 
bury had imposed upon a too-willing attendant. 

Esther ascended the steep stairs leading to the sa- 
loon. The typewriting machines were ticking furiously 
as of yore, proclaiming — so it always seemed to Esther 
— the grim gospel of unremitting work for the millions 
of which she was an insignificant unit; and, as she 
reached the first floor, one of the young ladies came 
out, carrying a sheaf of script in her hand. She had 
worked here for nearly five years. Esther could re- 
member her as a pretty girl, with round, soft, rosy 
cheeks. Now she was thin and pale, with an indelible 
wrinkle between her eyes, and hollows where the dimples 
had been. Esther wondered if she herself had aged as 
rapidly. Had Harry noticed an enormous change? 
She would like to know. 

Miranda lay upon the sofa. She had four pupils, 
but each day her efforts to teach them seemed to leave 
her exhausted. Nevertheless her indomitable pluck was 
even more remarkable than before. 

Esther presented the chrysanthemums ; Miranda’s 
eyes sparkled. 

“ Something has happened.” 

“Yes,” said Esther. 

She knew that Miranda would squeeze the last 
drop of information out of her, and that it would 
be fatuous to procrastinate, or to try to hide the 
truth. 


“ I have met Lord Camber.” 


THE PALADIN 


233 


She took off the new hat, eyed it with comparative 
indifference, and placed it on the table. 

46 How dramatic ! ” 

46 For a moment, yes. I was terrified, but I pulled 
myself together. Certainly I am stronger than I used 
to be.” 

44 1 should hope so. Go on ! 99 

44 I found myself talking to him with really remark- 
able composure. His wife is very ill. I have prom- 
ised to nurse her.” 

44 You have promised to nurse Alice Godolphin ! You 
are an extraordinary young woman.” 

44 No longer young.” 

44 How did your Harry look ? 99 

Esther poured herself out a cup of tea, frowning. 

44 1 wish you wouldn’t speak of him as mine ; it’s so 
absurd.” 

44 1 can’t believe he ever belonged to Alice Godol- 
phin. Has he altered much? ” 

Both women had followed our paladin’s career since 
his marriage and accession to the throne of his fathers, 
but they only knew what the British public knew, that 
he had justified expectation. What his world demanded 
of him he had done. He was Lord-Lieutenant of his 
county, and approved everywhere as a model land- 
lord, sportsman, Christian, and gentleman. 

44 He wears a coat of more serious cut.” 

44 Did you promise to nurse his wife to oblige him? ” 

44 No — to oblige Mr. Napier.” 

44 Ah — ha! We are beginning to like Mr. Napier.” 

44 He forced my hand. I simply couldn’t refuse.” 


234 


THE PALADIN 


She described what had passed, presenting her story, 
as Miranda liked it, dramatically. Miranda listened, 
shaking her head and emitting grunts of incredulity. 
At the end Esther said: 

“ It’s a great opportunity to pay off part of my 
debt to Harry.” 

“ How do you propose to do it?” 

“ I shall nurse his wife as woman was never nursed 
before.” 

“Um!” 

“ Miranda, you look horribly wicked. What are 
you thinking? ” 

“ I’m thinking that if you really wish to pay the 
bill in full, you’d better pop one of these poisons 
you’ve been tinkering with into your patient’s milk.” 

“ Miranda ! ” 

“ I thought you’d be shocked. What an innocent 
you are still! Do you really believe that this man 
wants that wretched creature to live? ” 

“ What an abominable question ! ” 

“ He married her out of pique, because he couldn’t 
get you. He couldn’t have done a stupider thing. 
These musical comedy girls are not ladies, and we 
know they’re not actresses. They can’t even pretend 
to be ladies. I’m very sorry for your Harry, always 
was. That he is a bit of a fool is no disability. You 
would have looked after him nicely. And the cards 
have always said that you and he would come together. 
First and last he wanted to marry you.” 

“ Last rather than first,” murmured Esther. 

“ If Alice Godolphin is in a rapid decline ” 


THE PALADIN 


235 


“ I’ve not seen her yet.” 

“ The cleverest men in France and Germany have 
given her up, you say ? ” 

“ But Mr. Napier hasn’t.” 

“ He couldn’t save Sabrina. When our time comes 
we must go. I’ve never forgiven Alice Godolphin — 
never ! ” 

“ Miranda, dear, please ! ” 

Miranda laughed harshly. At rare moments such 
as these her coarseness distressed Esther. Always Mi- 
randa exploited thoughts which delicately-minded wo- 
men hardly dare to entertain secretly. Esther had the 
feeling that if the issues of life and death lay with her 
old friend she would turn down her thumbs without an 
instant’s hesitation. Had not Sabrina said that Mi- 
randa was a Pagan? 

“ Is this nursing to be day-work or night ? ” 

“ Day, of course! You don’t think ” 

“ Go on. You won’t? Very well. I am not to think 
that you would leave me. Why shouldn’t you leave 
me? I’m strong again.” 

Esther did not answer. She poured out a second 
cup of tea, with an obstinate look upon her face; then 
she said tartly: 

“ Your sister is going to play at the Deucalion.” 

“ Is she? ” Miranda looked ten years younger. “ I 
suppose the other woman is ill. What a bit of luck! 
Laura will have an immense success in that part. This 
is great news — glorious news ! ” 

The utter absence of any jealousy, this unfeigned 
delight in the continued good fortune of a sister who 


236 


THE PALADIN 


had behaved with the blackest ingratitude, stirred 
Esther to the depths. Loyalty, fidelity, sincerity — 
what soul-satisfying qualities, these were! 

She heard Miranda glorifying the talent of her sis- 
ter Laura, but Esther was thinking of Harry: once 
her lover, then her friend and benefactor, her saviour, 
not to put a fine point on it, and now — what? She 
saw him, monumentally impressive, as he had turned 
to meet Napier. She knew that this attitude had be- 
come natural to him. What price had he paid to 
acquire it? It was awful to reflect that he might have 
sought this and little else during four years — the per- 
fection of an attitude! 

And his wife? 

A mordant curiosity possessed her to see the woman 
whose place she might have filled, the woman whom 
more than once she had envied. Yes, envied! The first 
year at the nursing home had been very strenuous. 
There had been moments, dismal moments, when she told 
herself passionately that she had been a fool. But 
there had been other moments too — the great moments 
to which Napier had alluded — when she knew that she 
had been wise, and that the struggle against wind 
and tide was developing and strengthening her into * 
an entity whom Sabrina would not be ashamed to greet 
upon the farther shore. For Esther had been living 
a life which constrained her to think much and often 
of that farther shore for which she had seen many, old 
and young, set sail. It would be unwise to affirm that 
nurses are especially religious. To many they may 
appear, apart from the practice of their profession, 


THE PALADIN 


m 

amazingly light-hearted, and even frivolous. Why not? 
Some reaction is inevitable and natural. But when 
they are watching and waiting for the end, counting 
the last breaths, marking the supreme change, can 
w r e doubt that then they are drawn into a more in- 
timate communion with what is Eternal and Omnip- 
otent? From the hour when Esther had been forced 
to live for others, her sympathies had widened, and 
her knowledge of what life is had become in itself vital, 
because she had gazed so often upon death. 

Of what nature would be this new relation between 
herself and Harry and Harry’s wife? She knew now, 
without a scintilla of doubt, that she had never loved 
the paladin ; and, naturally, he must have lost long 
ago any love he might have had for her. Because of 
that she would be able to nurse his wife. Otherwise 
the situation would have been impossible. Nevertheless, 
the liabilities frightened her, the more so because they 
were vague and amorphous. 

“ You are not listening to a word I’m saying! ” de- 
clared Miranda. 

“ I am not,” Esther confessed, smiling. “ When you 
rave about your sister Laura I am frankly bored.” 

“ Then we will talk about you and your affairs. 
If you are going to nurse a fractious, hard-to-please 
patient, I protest violently against your sleeping here. 
These are my rooms, and I give you notice to quit.” 

As if to demonstrate the notable improvement in her 
condition, she attempted to rise from the sofa. Imme- 
diately Esther sprang to her assistance, but was waved 
magnificently aside. 


THE PALADIN 


238 

44 There ! ” exclaimed Miranda, standing up. 

Esther turned a soft glance upon her friend’s stout, 
ungainly figure, now racked by rheumatic pains. Often, 
as she was aware, Miranda had to lie still wherever 
she might be because she couldn’t get up. 

44 What do you suppose I do when you ain’t here, 
eh?” 

Esther answered coolly : 44 I happen to know what 
you do. You hammer on the floor with your stick, 
and one of the girls downstairs comes up.” 

44 Pish ! ” said Miranda, walking unsteadily across 
the saloon. 

44 You are not fit to be left alone at night,” continued 
Esther, speaking with professional curtness and finality, 
44 so let us have no more nonsense. I am going upstairs. 
You had better lie down again.” 

44 I must write a letter first.” 

Esther discerned a twinkle as Miranda sat down 
heavily upon the chair by her desk. She laughed, 
crossed the room, kissed Miranda, and said : 

44 You are an old duck, but you do fib horribly.” 

Miranda’s eyes twinkled again as Esther left the 
room to set about preparations for their simple sup- 
per. Then, almost furtively, she wrote as follows: 

Dear Sir, — I conceive it my duty to inform you that I was 
the very unwilling cause of Miss Yorke’s breakdown after nurs- 
ing the Duchess of Belbury. At the time I was suffering with 
a severe attack of inflammatory rheumatism, from which I am 
happy to say I have recovered. I am now perfectly able to 
look after myself by night or day. You will do me a favour and 
Miss Yorke a real service if you will insist upon her sleeping in 
your house, where she will get proper food and attention. Here 


THE PALADIN 239 

she insists upon playing the parts of house-maid, parlour-maid, 
and cook. Faithfully yours, 

Miranda Jagg. 

P.S. — You can show this letter to Miss Yorke if necessary. 

Having sealed this letter and stamped it, she di- 
rected it to Napier, and then tapped on the floor with 
the famous clouded cane which had been used by Charles 
James when he played Sir Peter Teazle. One of the 
typewriting young ladies answered the tap, slightly 
out of breath, for she had run upstairs. 

“ I want you to post this yourself, my dear. And, 
look here, you begin early and w T ork late. Where 
do you live? ” 

“Happy Hampstead, Miss Jagg.” 

“ Indeed. A far cry from Covent Garden. And the 
nights close in early. Would it be a convenience to 
sleep here for, say a couple of months? ” 

The young lady jumped at such a chance. Within 
five minutes arrangements satisfactory to each party 
had been made. The young lady whisked off, and Mi- 
randa sat down to play patience, with a view to dis- 
cover the intentions of Fate in regard to the nursing 
of Lady Camber by Esther Yorke. The patience 
“ came out ” satisfactorily from a pagan point of view. 
Miranda smiled grimly, sensible that if she could see 
Esther in the robes of a peeress she could turn her 
face to the wall and expire without vain repinings. 

“ The dear child would look beautiful in a tiara,” 
she murmured, as she reshuffled the cards. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


OUR PALADIN FLIRTS WITH OPPORTUNITY 

Napier received Miranda’s letter early next morning. 
It coloured a new Esther, whose better acquaintance 
he felt an absurd impatience to make. Absurd be- 
cause, after all, what was Hecuba to him? A clever, 
light-fingered assistant ; a nurse with gifts for dealing 
tactfully with petulant, disagreeable patients. Was 
she anything more? It surprised him that he should 
be obliged to ask such a question. It annoyed him 
that he was unable to answer it offhand, with an em- 
phatic and contemptuous “Nothing!” Admittedly 
she was “ Something,” an organism to be studied, or 
rather an organism that might repay study, and which 
might — the possibility was barely glimpsed — baffle 
study. Thinking of her while shaving, he cut his chin, 
whereat he had been unduly exasperated. 

Punctually at ten Esther arrived, and, with a curt 
nod of greeting, took up the work of the previous day. 
Napier, at the other end of the laboratory, watched 
her out of curious eyes, trying to perceive the halo 
which she had been at pains to hide from him. Why 
did she lay such stress upon the material side of life? 
Why did she prattle about pretty things? She was 
pretty herself. No, not pretty: a detestable adjective 
that ! She had been pretty. Now she exhibited charm, 
240 


THE PALADIN 


Ml 


distinction, a matured beauty of expression, which he 
had never remarked before. He wondered whether 
many men had fallen in love with this attractive crea- 
ture. And, if so, why, in the Sphinx’s name, had she 
not consented to make one of them happy? 

“ About this case of ours,” he began abruptly. 

“ Yes? ” 

She stood to attention, quietly impassive. 

“ I’ve been thinking that you must sleep here.” 

“ Sorry, but I can’t.” 

“Have others a claim upon your time?” he saw 
that his quickness had startled her, but he went on 
smoothly: “Is it quite fair to our patient?” 

“Did I leave anything undone for the duchess?” 

“ You left yourself undone. You insisted upon 
sleeping at home. I ought to have forbidden it flatly. 
This time I must be obeyed.” 

She confronted him valiantly, struck, not for the 
first time, by the look of power upon his face, its 
ascetic quality, its nobility of line. Then she said, 
smiling : 

“ It’s quite impossible, Mr. Napier.” 

Her obstinacy impressed a man accustomed to have 
his own way with nurses and under-strappers. In 
silence he handed to her Miranda’s letter. 

“ You see I know all about it.” When she had 
read the letter and was still staring at it, realising 
that she had been outwitted, he said slily : “ So you 

are an altruist behind the scenes, although you play 
the pleasure-seeker before me.” 

She made no answer. 


THE PALADIN 


242 

“ The two roles are not incompatible. In seeking 
happiness for others you may have found it for your- 
self.” 

“ Unfortunately — I haven’t. Well, I am cornered, 
and I suppose I must obey.” 

“ Of course.” 

“ Miss Jagg hates strangers,” said Esther, with 
seeming irrelevance. 

“ Miss Jagg must have other friends. I’m not going 
to scold you, but you make a mistake in thinking your- 
self indispensable to her.” 

“Nobody is indispensable.” 

“ That is going too far. You are indispensable in 
this particular case, and I shall see to it that you have 
the food you like, and a pretty room, and a larger 
fee.” 

“ You are very kind.” 

“ It’s not altogether a matter of business.” 

His tone rather than the words challenged her at- 
tention. Napier said slowly: “You are capable of 
great things ; because of that you deserve small things. 
Off duty, I hope you will try to look upon me as your 
host and my house as your home.” 

Not waiting for an answer, he turned his back and 
went out of the laboratory. 

Two days later Alice was installed upon the spa- 
cious first floor, and the rest-cure began its tedious 
course. Alice lay in bed, absorbing immense quantities 
of milk. Twice a day she was massaged. She saw 
nobody but Napier, Esther, the night-nurse, and the 


THE PALADIN 243 

masseuse. She was not allowed to read or write or to 
receive letters. 

From the first moment of meeting, Esther exercised 
a curious dominion over her, the greater because ab- 
solutely unsuspected by Alice herself. One of her first 
remarks had been: 

“ So you are a lady ! ” 

66 Who isn’t nowadays ? ” 

“ I’m not,” replied Alice sharply. “ That’s the 
trouble. That’s what made skin and bone of me. I 
mean to talk to you as I talk to my maid Peach, who 
used to be my dresser in the good old days. We’re both 
common. I used to pretend that I was too sweet for 
anything, but I couldn’t keep it up, particularly with 
my husband’s relations. If you have met Lady Matilda 
Rye you can guess what I’ve had to put up with since 
I married.” 

“ I have met Lady Matilda.” 

“ Have you? Then you know that she’s a cat, al- 
though she keeps her claws out of sight. She hates 
me, and she thinks I don’t know it ! ” Alice began to 
tremble with a sort of suppressed rage, which showed 
only too plainly how weak she was. Esther, obliged 
to take a definite line, did not attempt to treat her 
like a child. 

“ I am glad you are going to be quite frank with 
me,” she said quietly. “ But you know, of course, 
that I’m under ironclad instructions. We can talk 
together, in moderation at first, upon the one condition 
that you don’t get excited.” 

“ Did the duchess get excited? ” 


244 


THE PALADIN 


“ At first, it seemed hopeless even to try to soothe 
her. But she hadn’t your brains.” 

“ How do you know I’ve brains ? ” 

“ If you had been a doll you would have been satis- 
fied with dressing-up and playing the great lady. You 
have been miserable because, being an artist, you were 
cast for the wrong part.” 

“ I believe we shall get on,” said Alice. “ Crikey ! 
I’m lucky in getting you for a nurse.” 

Esther had achieved a small triumph, but she won- 
dered whether Lady Camber’s affection and confidence 
might not become oppressive. Obviously of an ex- 
pansive nature, she would insist, perhaps, on talking 
about Harry. Avowedly not a lady, she might say — 
anything. Next day the paladin rose largely above 
the horizon, appearing at ten in the morning, not with 
the milk, but with a charming nosegay of violets. In 
oblations of this sort he was never found wanting. 

Alice knew that Esther and Harry were not 
strangers. The ex-Secretary of Legation had men- 
tioned discreetly and indifferently that, by rather an 
odd coincidence, Napier’s pet nurse happened to be an 
old acquaintance. Alice listened with a yawn. Not 
till she met Esther in the flesh did she evince the 
slightest interest in her. 

“ Do you know Lord Camber well? ” she had asked. 

“ Fairly well.” 

“How long have you known him? ” 

“ Let me think. I saw him play cricket against 
Harrow.” 

“Are you as old as that? You don’t look old.” 


THE PALADIN 


215 


“ I feel old,” said Esther. 

“ He is very handsome, don’t you think so ? ” 

« Very.” 

“ I fell in love with him the first day I saw him — 
head over heels ; the worst case ! People are either 
angels or devils with me. I like you most awfully. 
I’ve had nurses before, but I hated ’em. They were 
all on the make ! They didn’t care a hang for me. But 
you’re different. You are really interested in me.” 

“ It’s true; I am interested enormously. Mr. Napier 
is interested, too. We want to give you back a new 
body, a new mind, a new point of view.” 

Esther spoke with enthusiasm, but Alice’s face indi- 
cated disappointment. 

“ Is your interest only professional? ” she asked. 

“ Certainly not. It is time for the milk.” 

“ Ugh ! How I hate milk ! ” 

“ Please.” 

The nurse insisted, holding out the nauseating 
draught, never to be poured out of window, always to 
be drained to the last drop. 

66 And now you must try to sleep.” 

The first and most difficult week passed more quickly 
and smoothly than either Esther or Napier had dared 
to expect. Alice, however, was so feeble in body that 
any sustained resistance to two strong wills became 
almost a physical impossibility. 

“ She will make it lively later,” said Napier. “ Her 
ladyship’s manners are not unimpeachable, are they ? ” 

“ She is not as rude, or as ungrateful, or as stupid 
as the poor duchess.” 


246 


THE PALADIN 


“ She has taken a fancy to you. Use that as a 
lever. By the way, the husband rather bores me. 
Would you mind seeing him when he calls? He sug- 
gested it.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Esther, with a tiny gasp. 

“ Have I asked anything extraordinary? ” 

“Of course not.” 

“ I fancied you gasped.” 

“Perhaps I did. You took me b}^ surprise. I can 
see Lord Camber for a minute or two, if you particu- 
larly wish it, but ” 

“ Well? ” 

“ The suggestion ought to come from Lady Cam- 
ber.” 

As she spoke a tinge of colour flowed into her cheek, 
not unobserved by Napier. For the second time he 
was conscious of fog between Esther and himself. 

“ If you happen to be out when Lord Camber calls, 
and if he should ask for me — why, then ” 

“ I see. Women, I suppose, like to spin webs.” 

He spoke scornfully, and she felt an absurd desire 
to justify herself; to make him, the clever man, the 
specialist, realise his ignorance in regard to certain 
phases of the feminine mind. 

“ Mr. Napier, can you tell me in one word what 
has brought poor Lady Camber so very low? ” 

“ One word? Um ! No — it would take a dozen.” 

“ The question can be answered with one word of 
three syllables.” 

“ Impossible.” 

“ Jealousy.” 


THE PALADIN 


217 

The word soaked in. Esther smiled. Instantly 
Napier was piqued into replying: “From my slight 
knowledge of Lord Camber, and from all I can learn, 
he has not given his wife cause for jealousy.” 

“ Did I say that he had? Lord Camber is incapable 
of behaving with impropriety,” she continued, sensible 
that her statement had been too authoritative, too ob- 
viously the judgment of a woman who must have 
known Camber intimately : “ As you say, my patient 
has taken a fancy to me. She talks with embarrassing 
candour and without pretence. She astounded me by 
admitting that she was not a lady, and astounded me 
still more by adding that this was the tap-root of the 
trouble. Poor creature ! She has been morbidly jealous 
of every lady she has met, of every woman better edu- 
cated and better bred than herself.” 

“ Go on,” said Napier. “ This is interesting and 
instructive.” He spoke seriously, with his keen, pene- 
trating eyes upon Esther’s face. Her duty for the 
day was over, and the night-nurse had taken her place. 
At this hour of the evening Esther furnished a report 
and submitted a chart. Then she would change her 
gown and dine, and afterwards pay a visit to Miranda, 
or perhaps slip round to the nursing-home, hard by, 
where she was always sure of a welcome. 

“ She is easier in her mind now, because such com- 
parisons are impossible. Lord Camber sends nosegays. 
She knows that he is thinking kindly of her.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said Napier. 66 You were 
right and I was wrong. All the same, I cannot be 
pestered when I’m at work in the laboratory. You 


248 


THE PALADIN 


wish the suggestion that you should answer Lord Cam- 
ber’s questions to come from his wife? ” 

“ Ye-es.” 

“ A hesitating affirmative. Well, leave it to me. 
Are you perfectly comfortable?” 

“ Perfectly, thank you.” 

“ If you want anything, name it.” 

“Am I coming back into the laboratory when this 
is over ? ” 

“ Of course. I miss you very much. I won’t instal 
anybody in your place.” 

“What a handsome compliment! But it reminds 
me that I ought to return this.” 

She was about to take a small key from a thin 
chain, the key of the laboratory to which no one was 
allowed access, when he held up his hand, smiling. 

“ Keep it as a pledge that I mean what I say. And 
look in to see how things are going whenever you 
have a mind.” 

“Thanks; I will.” 

She left the library and returned to her own room. 
But when she dined with the nurses in attendance upon 
other cases in the house her usual vivacity seemed to 
have deserted her. She found her mind dwelling upon 
Harry, who began to assume the proportions of an 
advancing Juggernaut. She was sure that he had 
plotted and planned to secure a meeting with her. Men 
spun webs, finely reticulated webs, in which women who 
wished to be left alone were cruelly enmeshed. 

Esther, naturally enough, mentioned to Miranda 
that she was likely to meet the paladin. 


THE PALADIN 


249 


“Ha, ha! My lord flirts with opportunity.” 

“ Why do you assign the base motive? ” 

“ I don’t blame him a bit.” 

“I do, if — if what you think is true.” 

“ How ungenerous ! ” 

“Why should he not want to ask for little details 
about his wife?” 

“ He is a man, my dear, therefore he pursues the 
quarry which till now has escaped him.” 

“ Then I’m in the most horribly embarrassing situa- 
tion.” 

“ You are. It’s dramatic. I foresee comedy and, 
perhaps, tragedy.” 

“ Miranda, you frighten me. I’m a coward. Mr. 
Napier and Mrs. Tower believe me to be brave and 
cool-witted. That’s on the surface. I’m always acting 
on impulse and then regretting it.” 

“ Regretting it ? Oho ! ” 

“ I do not regret the impulse which drove me from 
Mont Plaisir.” 

“ Never? Come, come, between old friends let the 
truth prevail ! ” 

“ Never — in my sane moments. But why did I not 
refuse Harry when he asked me to — well, dissemble? I 
was weak as water at a critical moment. And I ought 
to have held out valiantly against Mr. Napier’s im- 
portunity. Vanity ! I wanted to keep his good 
opinion.” 

“ I believe you are falling in love with Mr. Napier.” 

“ Miranda ! ” 

“ He must be a cold-blooded animal if he’s not fall- 
ing in love with you.” 


250 


THE PALADIN 


“ Please ! ” 

“ Pm a coarse, common old woman, who cares little 
for anything or anybody, but who would like to see 
you in clover before she turns up her rheumatic toes.” 

What might be said or done after this? Could 
Esther soar into the empyrean, leaving so stout a friend 
fatly sitting on mother earth? And if she remained 
she must eat and drink Miranda’s food, and listen to 
Miranda’s talk: the fare provided for body and mind 
being of the rump-steak pudding sort, with bread 
and cheese and a glass of strong ale to follow! Also, 
if long in her company, Esther became conscious of a 
temptation (strenuously resisted) to sit at ease in 
dressing-gown and slippers. 

Walking back to Harley Street, she asked herself 
very soberly: Was Napier’s interest in her likely to 
warm into a more ardent attachment? When his work 
was done, did he think of her, as she had begun to 
think of him? 

For, at last, he had taken hold of her imagination, 
although her fancy, in the sentimental sense, still re- 
mained merely lukewarm. He began to appear as a 
possible paladin : a paladin disguised and afoot, a 
very different figure from our magnificent Harry, 
armed cap-a-pie in shining armour, superbly mounted, 
and challenging the world. Napier must have had a 
tincture of humble Allen’s blood in his veins. He was 
chivalrous when nobody was looking, although in this 
densely populated island it may be taken for granted 
that sharp eyes lurk behind every fence. Esther had 
heard of some of Napier’s feats. Mrs. Tower, who 


THE PALADIN 


251 


never exaggerated, who would have recited the tale of 
Marathon or Trafalgar without a tremor in her voice, 
had spoken to Esther of fights fought to a finish in 
London slums. Napier’s spacious house was sanctuary 
for poor and rich. Above the rooms occupied by Lady 
Camber an overworked sempstress was undergoing simi- 
lar treatment. 

From thoughts of Napier, Esther turned with re- 
luctance to speculate concerning Harry. Alice had 
given her to understand that my lord had been a 
faithful husband. She boasted of it shrilly, comparing 
him with other men of his world whose illustrious 
names fell trippingly from her tongue. But devotion 
and fidelity are not synonyms for passionate love. 
Was Harry capable of passionate love? That would 
have saved poor Alice. Beneath its ardent beams she 
would have grown plump. 

Harry, Esther reflected, and quailed at the thought, 
might have remained faithful to his first love! He 
had treated a doctor’s assistant with indifference. Had 
he met her upon the old footing, had he betrayed by 
a quiver of the lip, by one faltering phrase, that she 
was still dear to him, she could never have consented 
to nurse his wife. 


CHAPTER XIX 


ALICE ADORNS HERSELF FOR THE PALADIN 

Upon the following morning she saw Harry. Esther 
was sitting beside Alice when the discreet Buckle de- 
livered the message. Mr. Napier was engaged. Could 
Nurse Yorke see his lordship for two minutes? Nurse 
Yorke replied gravely that she also was engaged. Fi- 
nally, Alice — as had been foreseen — insisted upon 
Esther’s descending to the library, where Harry, more 
monumental than ever, awaited her. He held a bunch 
of lilies in his hand. 

In answer to his first questions Esther yielded to the 
temptation of speaking with greater optimism than 
was warrantable. Harry listened with dignified com- 
posure. 

“ She is responding,” he said, solemnly. 

“ Yes, that is quite the right word.” 

“ Please give her these lilies with my love.” 

“ Certainly. Your nosegays are a vital part of the 
cure.” 

She was leaving the room, when he called her by 
name. 

“ Esther ” 

“Wouldn’t it be safer to say — Nurse?” 

“We are friends, eh?” 

She was furious with herself for blushing. His gaze 
252 


THE PALADIN 253 

disconcerted her. And she saw that her blush pleased 
him. 

“ I don’t think we can be friends, Lord Camber.” 

“Why not?” 

“ I haven’t time to answer such a question. Good- 
bye ! ” 

“ A demam he replied. 

She flitted from the room, angry with him and an- 
gry with herself. Alice asked innumerable questions. 
Did his lordship look well? What was the colour of 
his necktie? Did he seem very anxious? Was he play- 
ing to distract him? Had he said anything about 
returning to Camber for the hunting? Esther an- 
swered these questions so satisfactorily that Alice ex- 
claimed: “You must see him every day that he is 
here.” 

“ Mr. Napier may disapprove.” 

“ I shall make a special favour of it. I feel as if 
I’d just swallowed half a bottle of fizz. Regular tonic, 
you are!” 

Harry saw Esther upon several successive days, and, 
insensibly, they began to drift into something approxi- 
mating to the old pleasant intercourse. The paladin 
behaved remarkably well, considering all things, and 
kept himself in hand. Alice, had she been present at 
these brief interviews, would have been satisfied with 
his exemplary behaviour. To do and say the right 
thing had become such a habit with our Harry, that 
it was difficult for him to break loose from it. Never- 
theless Esther had an ever-increasing terror that he 


254 


THE PALADIN 


still loved her, and she could not help admiring his 
self-control and perfect manners. Daily, also, she con- 
sidered the propriety, the necessity, of acquainting 
both Napier and Alice with the facts. She urged 
this upon Harry, but his obstinacy was great. He had 
changed his position for another more impregnable. 
Candidly he admitted that at the first shock of en- 
counter he had exacted a pledge of silence from his 
beneficiary upon the ground that he did not wish to 
be exposed as an ass. But his second reason had been 
the better. Upon Alice’s account silence must be main- 
tained inviolate. 

“ You have placed me in a false position.” 

“ And you ? Did you not do just that to me? ” 

“ Not willingly.” 

He replied with warmth. 

“ I loathe deceit. But we mustn’t think of our- 
selves. I promised Napier to co-operate cordially with 
him. Everything that is possible must be done for my 
poor wife.” 

Everything possible was done and the patient re- 
sponded. 

At the end of a fortnight Harry returned to Cam- 
ber for the opening meet of the Quorn. He left in- 
structions at his florists’ that flowers were to be de- 
livered in Harley Street every morning at ten, and, 
taking leave of Esther, he sent some charming mes- 
sages to his wife. The smile with which Esther speeded 
his departure may have been slightly beaming, but 
it vanished when he announced his intention of writing 
to her. 


THE PALADIN 


255 


“ Is that necessary? ” 

“ My poor wife cannot write or receive letters. I’m 
entirely dependent upon your kindness and good 
nature.” 

“ You needn’t write. I’ll send postcards.” 

“ I shall answer them.” 

With that he went his way, head in air and chest 
finely inflated. Assuredly he had a liberal faculty for 
dealing with difficulties and perplexities which keep 
anxious women awake at night. One felt convinced 
that his conscience was as clear as his skin. Esther 
told Miranda with undisguised glee that he had de- 
parted. 

“ Has he made love to you?” 

“ How dare you ask such a question ? ” 

“ He let you see that you are still the one and 
only?” 

“ The one and only is — himself.” 

But as she affirmed this, with a determined nod of 
the head, she knew that she was not quite fair to him. 

“ How ungenerous of you to say that ! ” 

“ You drive me into corners.” 

“ Obviously your machine of a doctor has cut him 
out.” 

“ If you talk like that I shall run away.” 

“ Is the wife really better? ” 

66 By pounds and pounds and pounds ! ” 

“ Um ! Sabrina dies and she lives, an d you believ e 
in an A llwise Pe rsonal P rovide nce 

“ I believe in a personal devil, when you are in this 
vein.” 


£56 


THE PALADIN 


Miranda only chuckled. 

Harry wrote letters. He had enjoyed a capital gal- 
lop on Thursday, but his second horseman had not 
turned up in time, so he had missed an even better 
hunt in the afternoon ! The hedges were awfully 
blind. His neighbours were very sympathetic and hos- 
pitable. He had laid down a pipe of Dow’s port. It 
was an experiment, because his uncle, not a bad judge, 
had always sworn by Cockburn. He was thinking of 
rebuilding the stables at Camber. . . . Esther re- 

membered that in the old days he had always talked in 
this strain, taking for granted that the subjects near 
to his heart must be of absorbing interest to others. 
She replied with postcards, writing them in Alice’s 
room, beside Alice’s bed. A fair sample of these wares 
is submitted. 

“ Steady improvement. A gain of half a pound 
yesterday. Patient sends love.” 

At the bottom of each card Alice insisted upon ex- 
ecuting a cross in pencil. All the Snellings did this 
with or without provocation. Esther watched her with 
a drawn feeling at the heart, for she was desperately 
sorry for her patient, in spite of many peevish moods, 
alternating with a gushing familiarity and affection 
perhaps harder to bear. 

Meanwhile her relations with Napier were monopolis- 
ing what attention she could spare from her patient. 
At the end of a month Napier became triumphant. A 
miracle had been wrought. As in the duchess’s case, 
he awarded the credit to Esther. “ You are a witch,” 
he said, again and again. He did what she had never 


THE PALADIN 


257 


known him to do with other nurses, he discussed the 
case exhaustively. And he spoke of other cases. She 
perceived that his whole soul went out, upon the wings 
of an immense pity, to relieve distress. His pale, thin 
face glowed with feeling when he spoke of starved 
bodies and brains of children without food or toys or 
love, of women beaten by drunken husbands, of girls 
driven onto the streets: all of them bred in the slums, 
condemned to live and die in the slums, and to bring 
forth myriads as wretched and forlorn as themselves. 
And he railed against the indifference of the more fortu- 
nate, intent only upon comfort, furious if their peace 
of mind were disturbed ; blind and deaf to what groaned 
and travailed within a few hundred yards of their cosy 
hearths and well-spread tables. 

“ It’s something to be proud of, isn’t it?” he de- 
manded. “We think ourselves — and we are — the great- 
est race on earth, and in London alone a quarter of 
a million children have not enough to eat! Glorious 
—eh? ” 

By the look on her face, by her wet eyes, by her 
quivering lips, he knew that she knew, that she, also, 
had been down to the depths, and that, like a soldier 
who had survived a stricken field, she could not bear 
to speak of what she had seen and endured. 

“ And the worst of it is,” he concluded, “ they have 
not the spirit to fight against the appalling conditions 
under which they exist.” 

Nevertheless he was no pessimist, although scornful 
of those contending that all was for the best in the 
best of worlds. Success, she could see (as in the case 


258 


THE PALADIN 


of Lady Camber and the little sempstress), intoxicated 
him. When he appeared sad and absent-minded, with 
a look in his eyes as if he had lost something, Esther 
divined that his skill had been of no avail, that some 
life for which he had fought was guttering out, leav- 
ing him in temporary darkness. 

At the end of five weeks he yielded to his patient’s 
solicitation to see husband and maid. The change 
wrought in Alice’s outward appearance was really re- 
markable ; her pink and white prettiness had come back, 
her eyes sparkled; the scales recorded even a greater 
increase of weight than that achieved by her Grace. 
She took delight in choosing the most ethereal peignoir, 
a pale blue and white affair, very virginal, in which 
— so Esther assured her — she looked not a day older 
than eighteen. She sent for the trinkets which Harry 
had given to her before marriage; in a word, she 
dressed the part, so as to appear what she had been 
when the paladin laid all he possessed at her feet. 
Esther assisted with enthusiasm. She also apprehended 
the importance of a coup de theatre. So much de- 
pended upon this first meeting. But Esther’s enthu- 
siasm was make-believe, part and parcel of the comedy 
carefully rehearsed. Inwardly, she was conscious of 
acute depression. She could not have explained this. 
Perhaps instinct told her that these elaborate prepara- 
tions were all in vain; that the paladin, as before, 
would not justify expectation, would not — as Miranda 
might say — play up! 

Upon the eve of Harry’s arrival, just after the full- 
dress rehearsal, when Alice, arrayed in the wonderful 


THE PALADIN 


259 


peignoir had chosen her exact position in the sitting- 
room adjoining her bedroom, Napier said to Esther: 

“ I can’t disguise from you that the heart worries 
me even more than I care to admit. We shall have 
to be very careful, because I dare not tell her the 
truth. Now that she is out of bed she will insist upon 
doing too much. Your hard times are ahead.” 

“ 1 know that.” 

“ She thinks herself cured, and I wish her to think 
it, provided she does not presume upon it. However, 
she won’t be allowed on her feet unless you are pres- 
ent. Watch her. That is the last word.” 

Upon the morrow everybody in the house knew that 
Lord Camber was coming at eleven to see his wife. 
Something of the excitement attending a marriage 
was in the air. Many flowers arrived, arranged by 
Esther in the sitting-room, a charming apartment, gay 
with the freshest chintz, and distinguished by decora- 
tions of Adam. A large three-sided cheval glass was 
brought from Grosvenor Square. After being arrayed 
in the peignoir by Esther, Alice was allowed to survey 
her own captivating image. She laughed and clapped 
her hands. 

“What will Harry say?” 

That was the rub. What would he say, this master 
of the right word, this precision in propriety? Esther 
felt almost impelled to waylay him in the passage, and 
to whisper, “ Kiss her as you kissed her when she 
promised to become your wife. Tell her again and 
again and again that she is prettier than ever. Praise 
her gown, her shoes, her silk stockings. Notice the 


260 


THE PALADIN 


little diamond heart which will lie above her own. 
When you sit by her hold her hand in yours! And 
smile, smile, smile, from the moment you enter the room 
till you leave it.” 

Could she have said that, had he acted upon such 
sound advice, how much misery might have been 
avoided ! 

The three-sided mirror reflected Esther also. The 
demure nurse, in uniform, wearing white cuffs and cap, 
served as an excellent foil to her sparkling patient. 

“ Stand by me,” said Alice. 

For the first time they stood shoulder to shoulder, 
staring into the depths of the glass, both smiling. 
Then Alice, with a little hysterical cry, flung her arms 
about Esther’s neck and kissed her. 

“ I love you, I love you,” she whispered, “ because 
I believe you have given me back my husband.” 

“ Say that to Mr. Napier.” 

“ I could hug him, too. But you, dear, have done 
the trick.” 

Esther led her gently to the sofa in the next room. 

“ Lie down and keep perfectly quiet ! ” 

“ I could dance.” 

“You will — if you are patient — later on.” 

“ What time is it now ? ” 

“ Twenty-five minutes to eleven.” 

“ Will they ever pass ? ” 

Then as Esther adjusted a cushion Alice added: 

“ I shall tell Camber that he must settle something 
handsome on you for life.” 

Esther winced. 


THE PALADIN 


261 


6i You mustn’t think that money is everything to 
me, or to Mr. Napier. We have earned our fees, per- 
haps ” 

“ I should think so, and jolly glad you must be to 
get ’em. When I was at the halls I stuck out for 
every penny I could come by. And, of course, Mr. 
Napier does the same.” 

“ Not always,” said Esther. 44 The patient who had 
the rooms above you left yesterday. She had the 
same care and attention that you have had. As you 
know, she worked for one of the big dressmakers at a 
sweating wage. For three days before she left her 
nurse noticed a slight reaction ; she seemed to be dis- 
tressed about something. Mr. Napier asked her what 
she had on her mind. Finally, she confessed that the 
thought of his bill was worrying her. He told her not 
to worry, but she did. Then she sent for him, and 
asked point blank what his charge was going to be. 
The nurse told me his answer.” 

44 He said 4 Nothing,’ I suppose.” 

44 He put it more delicately than that. He said, in 
his rather solemn way/ 4 Do you know, I have searched 
all through my books, and I can’t find your name any- 
where.’ With that he hurried away, and the nurse 
had to explain exactly what he meant.” 

44 He’s a good sort, although he is so plain. What 
time is it now? ” 

44 Twenty minutes more ! A watched pot never boils, 
although ” 

44 Well? ” 

44 1 was going to add, a watched husband does.” 


THE PALADIN 


262 

“ Do you think I watch Lord Camber P ” 

The quick personal application answered the ques- 
tion. 

“ Lord Camber doesn’t need watching.” 

“ How do you know ? ” 

Her lovely eyes filled with tears. Esther, pretend- 
ing not to see them, moved to the windows and ad- 
justed the blinds. 

“ Leave the blinds up,” said Alice sharply. “ I’m 
not afraid of the light now. I want him to see my 
skin, to stare at it. He knows that I’m quite capable 
of touching myself up.” 

Esther came back smiling. 

“ Do you think he’ll be punctual?” 

“ Of course ! ” 

66 There’s no 6 of course ’ about it. She laughed 
excitedly and Esther held up a warning finger. “ Oh ! 
it’s no use your doing that. If he isn’t on time to the 
minute I shall jolly well know that he doesn’t really 
care as I care. There — it’s out ! I can’t bottle things 
up with you.” 

46 He will be here to the minute.” 

But in her heart of hearts Esther was not quite sure 
of this. She remembered when she had waited for him. 
He had come, but not to the minute. And now every 
minute would count enormously, disastrously, to this 
expectant, excited, half-hysterical creature. She be- 
gan to distract her patient with such small talk as 
she could wring out of a brain already overworked. 
Alice lay still, obviously not listening to a single word, 
every fibre of her body strung to the highest tension. 


THE PALADIN 


263 


Eleven struck. 

“ Look out of the window,” said Alice. “ He will 
come in an electric brougham.” 

But no electric brougham was to be seen in the long, 
rather dismal street. Esther, feeling like Sister Anne, 
returned to the sofa to find her patient trembling. She 
placed her cool fingers upon the hot forehead. 

“ Many things may delay Lord Camber,” she said 
quietly. “You must pull yourself together; let him 
find you at your very best.” 

“ Do you think that I’d have been late if he was 
lying here?” 

She spoke passionately, with a vehemence and inten- 
sity that proclaimed her fierce hunger for love, and her 
terror that she might remain hungry and, ultimately, 
starve because a stone was offered to her in lieu of 
bread. 

“ Shush-h-h ! Perhaps the motor may have broken 
down.” 

“ Not it! And we shall be able to pick holes in any 
excuse he’ll have. You’ll see.” 

“ A block in Oxford Street, a clock too slow ” 

Alice interrupted shrilly: 

“ He is late because he doesn’t care.” 

“ You have no right to say that.” 

Nevertheless, at this moment, perhaps for the first 
time in her life Esther hated Harry. It was ridicu- 
lous to condemn him unseen and unheard, and yet — 
and yet — he ought to have been punctual even if 
the heavens were falling. As the minutes crawled by, 
her pity and sympathy for Alice deepened. Words 


264 


THE PALADIN 


she felt to be worse than useless. In silence both women 
waited and waited. 

At half-past eleven poor Alice burst into hysterical 
laughter and tears. 

Five minutes later, erect, smiling, with flowers in his 
hand, and a flower in his coat, our paladin marched 
majestically into the room. 


CHAPTER XX 

Esther’s vision is blurred 

“ I am late,” he said easily. “ I was unavoidably de- 
tained.” 

He greeted Esther with a courteous bow, bending 
down to kiss his wife, who lay passive. Then he 
stepped back a pace to examine her. 

“ Marvellous ! ” he exclaimed. “ A miracle ! ” 

It was doubtful whether he saw any sign of the agi- 
tation which had torn her to pieces but a minute since. 
Certainly in less than that same minute Alice had dem- 
onstrated to Esther her resource as an actress. She 
said in a languid voice, hardly recognisable : 

“ What detained you, Harry? ” 

He had not a glimmering of the truth, not a grain 
of understanding wherewith to perceive that a great 
issue was at stake. But Esther felt instinctively that 
he was being tried for her patient’s life. She could 
have struck him, when he answered in a complacent 
drawl : 

“ The Duke of Helmsdale called upon some impor- 
tant business.” 

“What?” The monosyllable was icy, but Harry 
never noticed that. He began his rigmarole of an ex- 
planation. And with every word he uttered he was 
thinking to himself that the duke had been extraor- 
dinarily civil and obliging. This august person was 
265 


266 


THE PALADIN 


his landlord in Sutherland from whom he leased a for- 
est and a salmon river. The fishing tenants, working 
together for almost the first time in the history of 
Scotland, had entreated the duke to remove all nets 
and machines from the mouth of the river, in the hope 
of improving the angling. The duke had been kind 
enough to call upon our paladin, whom he recognised 
as the most important of these tenants. The vexed 
question, really one of ways and means, had been thor- 
oughly thrashed out between them. It was entirely a 
matter of L.S.D. The duke would do his part, but the 
tenants would have to dive deep into their pockets. 
In conclusion, the great man had very justly ob- 
served : “ If you want your fun you must pay for it.” 
Extremely sound, that! For Harry’s part he was will- 
ing to pay his shot. He always had been willing. 

“Is that all?” 

“ We had a word or two about the stags. Helms- 
dale is going in for winter feeding on rather a large 
scale. There, again, if you want heads you must fork 
out. The duke and I were of one mind on that.” 

Alice glanced at Esther, who committed the unpar- 
donable sin of nurseship. By all the unwritten laws of 
her profession, she should have dissembled. But she 
couldn’t. Between the two women passed a long, si- 
lent look of perfect understanding. 

Each realised the hopelessness of reproach, or of 
speech at all. The duke’s errand had been of supreme 
importance; nothing, except possibly a raging tooth- 
ache, could have induced our paladin to shorten the 
august visit. 


THE PALADIN 267 

“ Of course, I couldn’t get rid of him. I knew I 
should be late, but I said to myself you were too sen- 
sible to worry. As I was starting, the parson of St. 
Ethelred’s came bothering round about some foolery 
connected with the unemployed. I bundled him out 
of the house pretty quick. Then I jumped into the 
motor — and here I am. Now, my dearest, tell us about 
yourself. You look perfectly charming, fresh as 
paint ! ” 

“ It isn’t paint,” said Alice. 

Esther went into the bedroom, softly closing the 
door. As she passed Harry, she said : “ Don’t let her 
get up, Lord Camber ! ” 

<fi Oh ! you can trust me to look after her.” 

An uninitiated observer, hearing and beholding 
him, noting the pleasant, genial inflection of his voice, 
and the pleasant smile upon his comely face, would 
have said, “ What a good fellow ! What a capital 
chap ! ” 

As Esther went out of the room, she thought to 
herself : “ And I might have married him ! ” 

When, a quarter of an hour later, she came back 
into the sitting-room, her compassion for her patient 
had swelled to preposterous proportions. And, al- 
ready, she seemed to perceive a change. Alice’s reno- 
vation had been an amazing bit of work; but Esther 
no longer regarded it with satisfaction. Indeed, she 
looked at Alice as she was in the habit of looking at 
some gown when it returned from the dyer’s. The 
gown appeared to be as good as new, but it wasn’t. 
The first shower would play the deuce with it. Alice 


268 


THE PALADIN 


was not nearly as good as new, and the first shower 
had done perceptible mischief. 

“ Time’s up,” said Esther, trying to speak cheerily. 
Napier had insisted that this first visit should not ex- 
ceed fifteen minutes’ duration. 

Harry took leave of his wife tenderly, but he did not 
dispute the doctor’s fiat. Nor did he plead for just 
five minutes more. In the passage, alone with Esther, 
he expressed his gratitude to her handsomely, but his 
face had lost its expression of smug complacency, when 
he whispered : 

“ She will become as strong as ever, eh? ” 

“ Mr. Napier will tell you it’s too early to affirm 
that.” 

“ I’m going to see Napier now. She looks wonder- 
ful!” 

“ 1 wish you could have seen her half an hour before 
you came.” 

“ Oh!” 

She repressed a smile with difficulty when she saw 
how sensitive he was about anything that concerned 
himself. In her tone he had caught a sublimated note 
of censure. He continued : “ Surely, I made it plain 
that I was unavoidably detained — didn’t I?” 

“ Unavoidably? ” 

“ Helmsdale was extraordinarily civil and obliging. 
One can’t kick out a duke like ” 

“ Like a bothering parson fussing about the unem- 
ployed? Certainly not!” 

“You are as fond as ever of your joke, Esther.” 


THE PALADIN 269 

“ Nurse, please! I have nothing left but my sense 
of humour.” 

“ By J ove, you look wonderfully handsome in a 
nurse’s kit. Well, Peach will turn up this afternoon, 
and I’ll drop in to-morrow at the same time.” 

Esther went back into the sitting-room to meet 
Alice’s enormous eyes fixed upon her in piteous inter- 
rogation. She crossed to the sofa, knelt down, took 
her patient’s hands, and said softly: 

“ Don’t speak ! Let me tell you what is in my 
mind.” 

* She paused to pray for the right words. Esther 
had never lost faith in prayer; she believed that when 
her prayers were not answered, the fault lay with her: 
she had not prayed fervently enough. 

Stroking Alice’s pretty hands, she began in a beguil- 
ing voice : “ I have seen women beaten by their hus- 

bands, kicked brutally, maltreated in every possible 
way ; and these same women have never known what it 
is to lie in a decent bed, to eat decent food, or to 
wear decent clothes. There are thousands of them 
here in London. You have so much, Lady Camber, 
don’t let the one little thing that is missing poison 
your life and his.” 

“ You call it a little thing.” 

“ Nearly all men are engrossed in what interests 
them, and nearly all men are slaves to convention.” 

“ He never gave me half a chance,” Alice continued 
vehemently. “ If he’d allowed me to be myself I might 
have gone down with the best of ’em. Society wants 


THE PALADIN 


no 

to be amused. If it’s amused, it doesn’t care a hang 
whether you are born in a cottage or a castle. It 
hates dull women, and quite right, too. I was dull to 
please him. I tried hard to behave myself on his ac- 
count. I knew I was making a mess of it. I’ve been 
a damned fool. If I’d gone on my own, if I’d danced 
and mimicked off the stage as I used to do on, I 
should have had a success. And what drives me per- 
fectly wild is the thought that in the end he’d have 
been jolly well pleased. And then, you know, he packed 
my people off to America. I thought it was so noble 
and generous of him, but, of course, he was ashamed 
of ’em. I missed mother and the kids most awfully. 
He said that Lady Matilda would be a mother to me. 
Funny, that, eh? My mother’s worth two of her. He 
hasn’t a notion that I’m a sort of hateful freak to his 
little Mumsie, and always will be.” 

“ You’ve shed a good many tears in the last four 
years ? ” 

“ Bucketsful.” 

“ Try smiles for a change, and be what you used to 
be, gay and amusing — natural, in a word.” 

Alice pondered this for a moment. Then she said 
slowly: “ It’s worth trying; but you see I know now 
that he doesn’t really love me; and I suspect he never 
loved me. I — I flattered him into marrying me. I 
laid it on pretty thick, and he wallowed in it. Don’t 
you think for a minute that I’d have married him if 
I hadn’t believed at the time that he cared for me; 
but he didn’t — he didn’t. He never cared for anybody 
except himself.” 


THE PALADIN 


271 


During the afternoon, the faithful Peach duly ap- 
peared. Since her translation from dresser to maid, 
she had assumed a gentility which sat comically upon 
her hard, whimsical face. In moments of excitement, 
she relapsed into cockneyisms and the free speech of 
the theatres and halls. From the first moment of meet- 
ing, her manner with Esther was that of the jealous, 
hypercritical servant whose nose is badly out of joint. 
Esther saw that she was devoted to her mistress. 

Alice, unfortunately, being tired out, received her 
old watchdog without effusion, and became peevish 
when the affectionate animal began, so to sneak, to 
paw her and lick her face. 

“ That’ll do, you stupid old thing ! Don’t fuss ! ” 

Esther perceived that Harry’s indifference was likely 
to be paid back, plus interest, to Peach, who was posi- 
tively overwhelmed by the change in her mistress. 

“ Never saw you look better,” she declared, “never! 
What you want now is a little cheerful serciety.” She 
glanced at Esther, and tossed her head. 

Whereupon Alice said tartly : “ Hold your tongue ! 
You speak much too loudly. Try to speak softly, as 
Nurse Yorke speaks!” 

“ Very good, my lady, but I was never one to mince 
my words ! ” 

At seven that evening, Esther reported as usual, 
but some things were left unsaid. Napier’s expression 
puzzled her. 

“ Anything troubling you ? ” she asked. 

He pushed back his chair, with a familiar gesture, 
indicating a desire to speak frankly. 


THE PALADIN 


m 

“ Lord Camber troubles me.” 

“ Yes?” 

“ I hardly like to tell you my impressions ; Pm 
ashamed of them, and yet ” 

He broke off, staring at her, nervous and excited. 
Then he began again, half-deprecatingly : “ Perhaps 
I’m becoming too analytical. I search and search, and 
sometimes I find what isn’t really there. Once, at the 
beginning of my career, I blundered horribly. I break 
into a cold sweat when I think of it. All went well, 
fortunately, and I learned a lesson. My patient be- 
came a healthy, useful woman. Her nerves were wrong, 
nothing else. Since, I’ve been rather a Thomas. I 
distrust my own ears and eyes.” 

Again he paused, but Esther knew that he would 
speak fully, and the fact that she had won his con- 
fidence filled her with pride and joy. 

“ Lord Camber, I repeat, troubles me. He came in, 
stood where you’re standing, and said some pleasant 
things. He has charming manners, but in my opinion 
manners don’t make the man, although they often 
serve to disguise the monkey. Be patient. Don’t you 
see how I funk coming to the point? Sit down, 
please.” 

He waited till Esther was seated, then he said 
abruptly : 

66 Camber didn’t want his wife to get well.” 

“ Oh!” 

“ You look at me with horror. Perhaps I am wrong: 
I hope sincerely I am wrong.” 

“ What makes you think this — this terrible thing? ” 


THE PALADIN 


ns 


“ You said just now that the maid was quite over- 
come. It’s not surprising. Apparently, Lady Cam- 
ber is the very picture of health. A layman would 
insure her life at a minimum rate without asking for an 
examination. I expected from the husband an extrav- 
agant expression of delight and surprise.” 

“ Surely you got it ? ” 

“ Of course I got it. He couldn’t say enough, or, 
rather, he said too much. I found myself floundering 
in a sea of compliments. And then ” 

“ Yes?” 

“ I was sitting here ; he was sitting where you are. 
His face was turned towards me, as yours is. I kept 
on saying to myself : 6 My boy, this is better than 

any cheque. Lie down and roll in this good fellow’s 
gratitude and joy; this is the moment which makes 
everything worth while.’ And all the time I’d a dismal 
feeling that I wasn’t rolling in it. His gratitude gave 
me no pleasure whatever.” 

<c How extraordinary ! ” 

“ Wait. He stood up to take leave. Stand up, 
please.” Esther obeyed. “ We shook hands like this.” 
Esther’s hand was fervently grasped and relinquished. 
“ Now walk to the door.” 

To do this, she had to turn her back upon him. 
As she did so she allowed her face to change, to become 
natural, reflecting her dismay that Napier should have 
discovered and put into words a conviction already 
overshadowing her. 

“ Stop!” 

She stopped, frightened by a thrill in his voice. 


THE PALADIN 


274 

When she faced him, she saw that something unex- 
pected had happened. 

44 You, too,” he murmured. He pointed to the look- 
ing-glass above the chimney-piece. 

44 I saw his face in that,” he explained. 44 Just as 
I saw yours just now. And the expression on both 
was curiously alike. You looked miserable — and so 
did he.” 

44 You made me feel miserable.” 

44 Yes, yes ; the expression is natural enough on your 
face, I suppose, but why should he look miserable?” 

44 1— I don’t know.” 

44 He should have been gloating.” 

Esther said nothing. 

44 1 can’t get his face out of my mind. It was more 
than miserable; it was hopeless, and my last words 
had been : 4 With care, Lady Camber may outlive 

you.’ ” 

44 You have an object in telling me this.” 

44 Yes. Lord Camber is a stranger to me, but not 
to you. Is there anything in your previous knowledge 
of him which would explain that terrible expression? 
Mind you, I saw it — saw it when he believed that no 
one could see.” 

The kindly, penetrating eyes which missed so little 
were upon hers. She desired passionately to fling 
pledges to the winds — and couldn’t. 

She would ask Harry, on her knees, if necessary, to 
cut these galling knots, and then, with his permission, 
Napier should have an answer to his question. 

Meanwhile she must temporise. 

44 1 only knew Lord Camber before his marriage,” 


THE PALADIN 275 

she replied slowly. 44 1 never met his wife till five 
weeks ago.” 

44 When you knew him, did you class him among the 
sheep or the goats? ” 

44 The sheep.” 

44 Can you remember what the world said of him 
behind his back? ” 

44 Nothing but good. He was a famous cricketer, a 
bold rider, and a good shot.” 

44 Any thruster in the pursuit of pleasure may be 
all that.” 

44 And a devoted son.” 

44 That’s better. Well, I see you can’t help me.” 

44 1 would if I could. You believe that?” 

44 Yes.” 

44 He may have some other trouble ? ” 

She spoke tentatively. Napier nodded his head, mut- 
tering, 44 Likely enough. Anyway, I suspend judg- 
ment. I shall keep an open mind and an open 
eye.” 

Esther went upstairs to her room. And then, the 
need of confiding in a friend overmastering her, she 
paid a visit to Miranda, the pagan, and apostle of 
expediency, who, because her own life had been cruelly 
hard, was almost indiscreetly anxious that other lives 
should be easy, particularly Esther’s. 

44 Well, my dear,” sai^ Miranda, with a sharp glance 
at Esther’s too white face and set lips, 44 you look ex- 
cited and spent. How goes the play? Will it end 
happily? ” 

44 1 don’t know. At any rate, please call it any- 
thing but a play.” 


276 


THE PALADIN 


She spoke with slight irritation, for Miranda’s pas- 
sion for histrionics affected her nerves. 

“ Shall I call it comedy — or tragedy? And how is 
the leading man ? ” 

“ Bother the leading man.” 

“ By all means. That is absolutely necessary. 
Bother him as much as possible, to test his quality.” 

“ Oh, Miranda, I quake ; I’m beginning to think that 
he hasn’t got any. And I’m so sorry for his poor 
wife.” 

She recited the incidents of the day, while Miranda, 
with impenetrable countenance, smoked three cigarettes. 
We may infer that Esther went into details. 

“And now, what’s to be done?” Esther concluded. 
“ My vision is blurred. I think one thing one minute, 
and just the opposite the next. If one could only 
walk into Gamage’s and buy immunity from thought.” 

“ Some women buy it at a chemist’s or at a public 
house. But, thank Heaven, you’re not that sort.” 

“ I’ve come here to-night to tell you I’m going to 
ask Harry to release me from that pledge.” 

“ He won’t,” said the wise Miranda. “ Few men 
would, and he’s not one of them. When you bolted 
he must have felt terribly cheap, but he consoled him- 
self with the knowledge that the world would not get 
hold of the story. Mind you, if he loved his wife, he 
would probably tell her himself, and have a laugh over 
it. But he doesn’t love his wife, you say now, never 
did, on her own testimony, and I’ll bet a new pair of 
slippers he still loves you.” 

“ I don’t know that,” said Esther obstinately. 


THE PALADIN 


m 

“ But I do,” replied her friend, with even greater 
obstinacy. “ And my head is clearer than yours be- 
cause I’m not bothered with a conscience.” 

“ If I break my promise ? ” 

“Oh, ho! You’ve got as far as that, have you? 
Well, it shows you’re precious anxious to please one 
man at the expense of another to whom you owe an 
enormous debt. But you run risks. I’d not say much 
about that month in France, if I were you. It’s try- 
ing the other fellow rather high.” 

“ Miranda, you put things in such an odious way.” 

“ My dear, I say what most women think ; and I’ve 
had to pay for it. I told my sister Laura the plain 
truth, twice. She profited by it, but she’s not spoken 
to me since.” 

“If you speak the plain truth, why shouldn’t I?” 

“As to that, it all depends upon what you will 
gain.” 

“ I swear my gain doesn’t count with me.” 

“ You interrupted me. If you won’t consider your 
own gain, you can’t ignore another’s loss. If this 
woman’s heart is dicky, the truth might kill her. Are 
you prepared to face a funeral of your own making? ” 

“ No— no.” 

“ Personally, I’m rather a stickler for the truth, but 
when I have to tell a lie, I tell a good one, and stick 
to it through thick and thin.” 

“ I’ve not told any lie.” 

“ You’ve acted one, willy-nilly. In your place I’d 
have done the same; and the reasons which made you 
hold your tongue when you engaged to nurse Lady 


278 


THE PALADIN 


Camber are stronger than ever to-day. I always said 
you were too sentimental. This poor creature has 
stirred you to the core ; she likes you, naturally 
enough ; but, mark me ! she’ll hate you like poison when 
she finds out that her husband asked you five times 
to marry him. If you want to polish her off in a 
nice, genteel, Christian way, tell her the whole truth; 
if you want to polish yourself off in Napier’s estima- 
tion, tell him the whole truth.” 

Esther was silent. Then some expression upon her 
face, the radiance of heart which for many days she 
had hidden there, beamed in her eyes. Miranda stared 
at her. 

44 Heavens! You are in love with your doctor!” 

Esther laid burning cheeks upon Miranda’s bosom. 

44 Tell me,” said Miranda, very gently. Then, as 
Esther remained silent, she whispered persuasively : 
44 Dear little Esther, has the real thing come to you ? ” 

44 Yes,” replied Esther, adding swiftly : 44 It is the 
real thing.” 

44 And he cares for you? ” 

44 1 don’t know. I — I think so. He has always been 
so kind, so considerate. How can I help loving him? 
Miranda, he’s a true paladin. And now, to deceive 
him, to run the awful risk of losing his love when I 

feel in my heart that it is mine ! Oh, Miranda, 

please advise me ! ” 

Miranda kissed her, smoothing her cheeks with the 
small hand which was still soft and pretty. Would 
any man accept Esther’s story with the full realisation 
of the complex motives which had inspired actions so 


THE PALADIN 


279 


indiscreet? She frowned; for her faith in man had 
been badly strained. Still smoothing Esther’s cheek, 
she said slowly: 

“ He must be a machine if he doesn’t love you. And 

yet, to speak now, to tell him everything ! Well, 

I simply can’t advise that. At any rate try the other 
fellow first. He’s not a bad sort, and generous. Can’t 
you speak to him alone for five minutes ? ” 

“ If I could!” 

The two women considered the difficulties. Now that 
Harry was admitted to Alice’s room, the meetings in 
the library had come to an end. The duel — for duel 
it might be — must be fought to a finish outside the 
house, in a quiet spot secure from interruption. 

Esther walked back to Harley Street with a smile 
upon her face, and the glad light still in her eyes. 


CHAPTER XXI 


RAIN IN CAVENDISH SQUARE 

Upon the following morning, our paladin arrived, as 
might be expected, punctual to the minute. With him 
came the great Sir Bedford Slufter, generously dis- 
posed to acclaim a triumph and to spread the news 
of it far and wide. After a short but satisfactory 
consultation in the patient’s bedroom, we behold the 
eminent physician (as before) leading his dear lady 
to a sofa, and installing her upon it with a ceremony 
and courtliness which had endeared him to the high- 
est personages in the realm. Napier and Harry fol- 
lowed; Esther carried a bundle of charts at which Sir 
Bedford had just glanced. Peach, unwilling to appear 
an outsider, clasped to her lean bosom a large pale 
blue silk cushion. 

44 Slip it behind my back, Peach. Not there, you 
clumsy creature! Thank you, nurse; what a clever 
darling you are! Sir Bedford, can’t you coax Mr. 
Napier to let me have a pint of fizz for lunch?” 

Sir Bedford, standing as if before a shrine, mur- 
mured: 46 A pint? I dare not ask for that, but one 
glass of sound, natural wine, eh, my dear Napier? ” 

Napier nodded. 

64 One small glass. Remember, nurse ! ” 

44 One small glass,” repeated Esther. 44 1 once told 
280 


THE PALADIN 281 

a patient she might have one glass of port and she 
drank a large tumblerful.” 

“ One can’t be too explicit,” added Sir Bedford. 
“ I allowed my poor old friend, the Bishop of — well, 
well, we won’t mention names — I told him to eat meat 
once a day. He consumed three chump chops at a 
sitting.” 

44 I feel as if I could,” said Alice. 

44 They accelerated the crisis,” concluded Sir Bed- 
ford in a sepulchral tone. Then, feeling that the con- 
versation was becoming too melancholy for such an 
auspicious occasion, he raised his hand, and exclaimed 
gallantly: “Looking at you, dear lady, I can say 
with Tom Moore, 4 1 breathe the fresh air of life’s 
morning once more.’ ” 

Alice raised her delicate eyebrows. 

44 Tom never said that,” she answered. 

44 1 give you my word he did.” 

44 Not he! I knew him well: Lord Ballygowan’s son, 
who was in the Pink Hussars, a very naughty boy ! ” 

Sir Bedford smiled blandly. His voice was sugary, 
as he murmured, 44 1 quoted Thomas Moore, the poet.” 

44 Never heard of him,” said Alice, with the famous 
combination of smile and wink which used to convulse 
the gallery. Then, with a lightning change of man- 
ner, she asked demurely: 44 Do I look myself again?” 

Sir Bedford delivered a solemn verdict. 

44 You look eighteen, not a day more.” 

44 Nice man ! Did you see me when I was eighteen, 
and played in The Belle and the Tiger at the Jollity? 
Rare fun, too ! ” She sighed. 


283 


THE PALADIN 


Sir Bedford, conscious that our paladin was disap- 
proving these reminiscences, said lightly, “ You were 
the Belle, of course?” 

Peach, hovering in the background, replied, “ My 
lady was the tiger, smartest you ever saw. Such 
breeches and boots ! My ! ” 

Sir Bedford hid a scandalised face behind a plump 
white hand; Napier smiled, much amused; our paladin 
scowled. Alice, glancing from man to man, said 
tartly: “Peach, you’re a fool! You never miss an 
opportunity of saying and doing the wrong thing. 
Now — hook it!” 

“ Beg pardon, my lady.” 

With a glare at Esther, who stood near the door, 
the old dresser went back to the bedroom. Sir Bed- 
ford, ever tactful, perceived that the moment was ripe 
for one of his anecdotes. 

“ Before I go,” he began, in his fruitiest voice, “ I 
must tell you a capital story against myself.” 

“You tell stories against yourself? Downy that,” 
murmured Alice. 

Sir Bedford, with a gesture which included every- 
body, continued : “ I had an interesting case of sus- 

pended animation the other day. A child, a fine little 
fellow, was lying apparently dead in one of the wards 
of my pet hospital, the Children’s Hospital; I arrived 
at the poignant moment when the house-surgeon, a 
kindly man, was breaking the news to the unfortunate 
mother. The poor creature could hardly believe that 
her son, an only son, was — in fact — dead ! The house- 
surgeon appealed to me. I said, taking her hand, 4 My 


THE PALADIN 283 

good woman, the dear child has gone to a Better Land 
than this.’ ” 

“How did you know that?” said Alice. 

Sir Bedford ignored the interruption, continuing 
suavely: “ Judge of my surprise, my dear Napier, and 
confusion, when the little fellow opened his eyes and 
observed in an unmistakably cockney accent, 4 No, I 
ain’t!’” 

Alice began to laugh immoderately. 

“ And then,” concluded Sir Bedford, approaching 
his climax with admirable art, “ the mother, who would 
seem to be lacking in a sense of humour, said to the 
child, 4 Don’t you contradict the doctor, Albert, he 
knows better than you or me.’ ” 

Amid a chorus of laughter Sir Bedford took his 
leave, promising to call again and tell another anec- 
dote. Napier, seeing that his patient was already over- 
excited, made a sign to Esther, who followed him and 
Sir Bedford out of the room. Husband and wife were 
left alone together. 

“ Do I really look very, very nice? ” murmured Alice. 

“ You look remarkably well,” replied Harry stiffly. 
“ By the way, surely you have heard of Thomas Moore, 
the poet ? ” 

“ Rather ! But I wanted to pull Sir Bedford’s leg.” 

“ He will carry an absurd tale of your ignorance 
everywhere. He’s on his way to the Palace now.” 

“ I know he is.” Suddenly she began to mimic the 
great man to the life. “ 4 The dear Princess is able 
to take a little solid nourishment — tapioca. Very 
gratifying ! Ve-ry ! ’ ” 


284 


THE PALADIN 


But our paladin did not deign to smile. His wife 
seemed to have no sense whatever of her position. He 
remained blind to the fact that she was displaying 
wares which once had allured and amused him, making 
a desperate effort to please her lord, trying to be light 
and gay, as Esther had counselled, and to woo his fa- 
vour with quips. Insensible to her wiles, he was think- 
ing: “ Oh, my God! After four years with me she 
doesn’t know the common decencies of life. And I’m 
tied to this bundle of nerves and slang for ever and 
ever.” 

Did she read him? Perhaps. Her face clouded, the 
light went out of her eyes. Her voice became petu- 
lant and hard. 

66 You knew what I was when you married me. You 
didn’t think you could make a prim, smirking society 
doll out of me, did you?” 

“ My dear girl, you mustn’t excite yourself.” 

“ 1 don’t. You excite me. I’m not a bad sort, but 
I can’t understudy your mother.” 

“ Come, come, this is so bad for you.” 

“ I know it. My heart is beating like blazes. I’m 
fire; and you’re ice.” 

She burst into tears. 

The paladin tried to staunch them with words which 
Dr. Watts might have approved. Failing utterly, he 
summoned Esther and Napier, who were speaking to- 
gether in the passage. Harry, as a spectator, as- 
sumed an expression eminently appropriate. But a 
slight look of relief illumined his face when Napier 
said, peremptorily : “ I prescribe absolute quiet. I 


THE PALADIN 


285 


shall turn you out,” he addressed Harry, who bowed, 
“ and your patient must see nobody but you,” he 
turned to Esther, who nodded. Then he added, “ We 
are making haste too quickly.” 

Harry bent down to kiss his wife. 

“ Wait one minute,” she murmured. 

“ Let it be no more than that ! ” 

Napier went out of the room. Esther could see that 
he was frowning, and fidgeting with his fingers. Wish- 
ing to leave husband and wife together for the brief 
time accorded to them, she retreated to the bedroom, 
where she found Peach, open-eyed and open-mouthed. 

“What’s up!” 

“ Lady Camber has had a slight hysterical attack. 
Please go to your room. My patient must be kept per- 
fectly quiet for the rest of the day.” 

“Doctor’s orders, eh?” 

The tone was designedly insolent, but Esther an- 
swered gently: “Yes.” 

“ What my lady wants is someone who really loves 
’er, and understands ’er.” 

With this Parthian shot, the faithful one whisked 
out of the room. Esther returned to her patient. Evi- 
dently, Harry had made his peace, for Alice was smil- 
ing, although her cheeks were still wet. Harry marched 
out, reinflated. 

“ Please run after him, nurse, and ask when he’s 
coming again.” 

Esther overtook Harry as he reached the staircase. 
No one was in the hall below, or upon the stairs above. 
But, a few feet distant, a very heavy curtain shut off 


286 


THE PALADIN 


the approach to the backstairs and the servants’ 
rooms. Rushing swiftly after opportunity, it did not 
occur to Esther that anybody behind the curtain might 
overhear what was said in the corridor. And she had 
quite forgotten that an injured, vindictive old woman 
had just been summarily despatched. 

Now, impulse — as we know — had sent Esther on the 
previous evening hot-foot to an old friend, whose 
common-sense might on occasion dilute difficulties but 
was not likely to wash away intuitions and instincts. 
The same ineradicable impulse sent her at a gallop 
after our paladin. Sabrina, under similar circum- 
stances, would have stood still, not advancing an inch 
till she was sure of her ground. Esther knew after- 
wards that she had been spurred to a desperate charge 
by the prickings of subterfuge. She, like Miranda, 
felt capable of telling a big lie and sticking to it ; fibs, 
moreover, particularly those elaborated in the interest 
of others, she regarded as venial, and, in the case of 
nurse and patient, often requisite and imperative. But 
the everlasting, tormenting, hairshirt itch of subter- 
fuge drove her mad. Enforced practice of its shifts 
and evasions seemed to eat away that crust of self- 
possession and patience so highly esteemed by Mrs. 
Tower and Napier. In a word, she was goaded into 
doing something which indicated not lack of intelli- 
gence, but a disordered superfluity of it. If a woman 
of temperament desires inordinately to hit the right 
nail on the head, ten to one she misses it and hits her 
fingers instead. To use a golfing expression — she 
presses and foozles. 


THE PALADIN 


287 


The judicious may grieve at Esther’s precipitancy, 
but they will understand it. 

“ One moment ! ” 

She spoke breathlessly. 

“ Yes?” 

“Are you coming to-morrow?” 

Peach, on her way to her room, heard the question. 

Very suspicious of young and good-looking women, 
ever ready to infer the worst upon the smallest provo- 
cation, she stood still, wondering why his lordship 
was addressed in so familiar a tone. With a cunning 
smile upon her withered face she crept back to the 
curtain. 

“ Of course.” 

Harry stood just below Esther, having descended 
two of the stairs, and hearing her voice, he turned, 
looking up at her, with the expression which poor Alice 
had never seen, and which Esther recognised immedi- 
ately. Peach, peering behind the curtain, drew in her 
breath 'sharply. 

Unstrung by this sudden resurrection of feelings 
which she had vainly hoped to be dead, Esther con- 
tinued nervously, “ I must see you alone. When and 
where can we meet quietly, for a few minutes ? ” 

“ Name your own time and place, my dear Esther. 
I shall be there.” 

“ Please, please, don’t call me Esther. It’s so dan- 
gerous.” 

“ I hate to even think of you as Nurse Yorke.” 

“ Can you meet me to-night at seven, by the Ben- 
tinck statue in Cavendish Square? ” 


288 


THE PALADIN 


“With pleasure.” 

“ Thanks.” 

He continued his stately progress down the stairs, 
smiling magnanimously; Esther hastened back to her 
patient; Peach, with a snarl of rage and indignation, 
repeated to herself : “ Bentinck statoo ! Cavendish 

Square I Seven to-night ! The minx ! ” 

Nurse Richards relieved Esther at six o’clock that 
evening. For a fortnight her duties had been extremely 
light. Her patient slept well, and exacted no atten- 
tion whatever between the hours of ten and eight. Be- 
cause of this Napier engaged a pleasant, capable per- 
son, but undistinguished by Esther’s shining qualities 
and certainly not nearly so amusing a companion as 
Peach. When Esther went off duty, Alice asked if 
Peach might come to her for half an hour. Peach 
would brush her hair and put her to bed. After a 
moment’s hesitation Esther referred the question to 
Napier through the telephone which communicated with 
the library. Napier acceding, Peach was sent for, 
but it appeared that she had just left the house. Nurse 
Richards brushed Alice’s hair, as usual, and Esther, 
after changing her dress, hurried off to keep her ap- 
pointment with the paladin. 

By this time she was frightened. To add to her 
terrors the night was dark, and rain had begun to 
fall; a chill mist penetrated to the marrow. Instinct 
warned Esther that no good would come of this mad 
enterprise, and that evil encompassed her in this damp 
mirk. She felt like a fair-weather sailor putting to 


THE PALADIN 289 

sea with a falling glass and clouds rising black above 
the horizon. 

As she walked swiftly to the trysting-place, the re- 
membrance of Harry’s expression flashed a warning 
signal. She understood perfectly that his seeming 
coldness had been simulated. He had wished to chas- 
tise her. Now, he was about to relax from austerity 
into — what? With what cooling words could she 
quench flames? However, flames could not burn very 
ardently upon such a sopping night as this. 

Harry stood beneath the statue, almost as impress- 
ive a figure. Across the way, under a lamp, might be 
seen a woman in black, probably — as Esther thought — 
some poor waif of the streets, patiently awaiting the 
grim command to move on. It was Peach, unmind- 
ful of the cold, and muttering to herself, “ The minx ! 
the slut ! How I’d like to scratch her eyes out ! ” 

Harry grasped Esther’s hand, and pressed it. She 
withdrew it, hastily. Then he said, in the old familiar 
tone with which he had imposed vanilla ice upon her 
when she preferred strawberry: 

“ It’s a beastly night. We can’t talk comfortably 
in this soaking rain. I have a cab here. In you get ! ” 

“ But where are we going? I can say what I have 
to say in five minutes.” 

“ We can catch our death of cold in five minutes. 
Get in.” 

Masterfully, he took her arm, led her to the cab, 
almost pushed her into its fusty interior, and bade the 
cabman drive to Baker Street Metropolitan Station. 

Esther asked him if he was quite mad; he replied 


290 


THE PALADIN 


with deliberation : “ We shall drive there and back. 

What you have to say may take only five minutes, I 
want half an hour.” 

The cab rumbled off. Under the lamp a woman in 
black said, beneath her breath : “ There they go ! 

Dinner for two in a private room at a quiet resterong! 
Pah! And to look at ’er, you’d suppose that butter 
wouldn’t melt in ’er mouth ! ” 

Inside the evil-smelling cab Esther was saying: 
“ Please release me from that promise which you ex- 
torted in Mr. Napier’s library. It has placed me in 
an abominably false position with my patient and my 
employer. Let me tell part of the truth to your wife, 
and all of it to Mr. Napier.” 

These “ lines,” it may be guessed, had been care- 
fully rehearsed. Delivered in the right way, at the 
right time, they might have had an effect. But Mi- 
randa would have shuddered to see a former pupil so 
lost to the dramatic fitness of things as to attempt 
the subtle art of persuasion in a growler without pre- 
vious “ playing-up ” to the climax, and upon an un- 
lighted stage. Harry listened without interrupting. 
His old Chief had inculcated the wisdom of letting a 
woman speak first and finish. “ Then you can make 
hay of her arguments at your leisure,” counselled this 
diplomat. “ If you speak first, she won’t listen, be- 
cause she’s thinking of what is in her mind, not yours.” 

“ Why do you ask this ? ” 

“ Because I am distracted. Miranda Jagg told me 
that I should never make an actress. It’s true. You 
are forcing me to play a part I detest. And I’m doing 


THE PALADIN 


291 


it badly. At any moment I may break down. I’ve 
an appalling attack of stage-fright.” 

“ You ask this on your own account solely? ” 

“ Ye— es.” 

“ I can’t see your face, but that 4 Yes ’ sounded 
unconvincing.” 

“ Harry, please put me out of my misery ! ” 

Here she struck the right note; but it ought to 
have preceded the hesitating 44 yes.” 

The paladin was moved. Pain thrilled in Esther’s 
voice, and pain, in any form, distressed him. To the 
parson of St. Ethelred’s he gave cheques, but he re- 
fused to listen to horrors ; and, like Lady Matilda, he 
kept out of slums. Overmastering his pity, however, 
w r as the thought that Esther had evidently not con- 
sidered him. And after what he had done for her ! 

44 You don’t care a hang for me? I wonder whether 
there are any faithful women left ! ” 

Esther replied, with an ironic smile which nobody 
saw, 44 My friend, nearly all the faithful women get 
left!” 

We admit that this feeble little joke was made at 
the wrong moment, and said to the wrong man. It 
would have softened Napier, it hardened our paladin, 
confirming him in the conviction that women were self- 
ish and frivolous, and capable of jesting inoppor- 
tunely. He had not yet recovered from the effects of 
Alice’s reprehensible attack upon Sir Bedford Sluf- 
ter’s leg. 

44 1 believe you are heartless, Esther.” 

44 Perhaps.” 


292 


THE PALADIN 


“ I’m sorry, but I can’t release you from your prom- 
ise yet. I must think of my wife first. Nobody knows 
better than you how hysterical she is. Look at yes- 
terday and to-day: We must wait a bit longer. In 
a week or a fortnight she may be stronger.” 

“But Mr. Napier?” In her eagerness she panted, 
arousing his suspicions. “ Let me tell him.” 

“ Why?” 

“ It’s his due. I owe him so much.” 

“And how much do you owe me? I hate to remind 
you of it. But don’t you owe me more than you owe 
this doctor? ” 

Knowing that she had made an irretrievably false 
step she remained silent. In the darkness she felt his 
hand close firmly upon hers, and she knew that his 
mouth was close to her ear, when he whispered softly: 
“ Esther, I have a question to ask you, which you must 
answer. Why did you run away from Mont Plaisir? 
Tell me the truth.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE PALADIN LETS HIMSELF GO 

Esther did not answer at once. In the darkness they 
sat side by side thinking of the past, and all that it 
had held. The woman had felt this man’s strong arms 
about her; her heart had thrilled to his passionate 
embrace; her lips had clung to his. She could never 
forget that, nor could he. 

She knew now that she had never loved him. He 
had fired a spark in her, a spark, no more, which had 
kindled a fire for another man. But he had loved her, 
and he still loved her. At his touch she realised this 
with a profound, ineradicable conviction. The knowl- 
edge stirred her to deepest pity, the pity which is not 
of kin to love, because in its unalloyed manifestation 
it can only live when love is dead. 

“ Why did you run away from Mont Plaisir? ” 

She wondered whether he dwelt designedly upon the 
name. Did he divine how greatly pleasure appealed 
to her? Did he feel in his heart the pangs which had 
torn her when she turned her back upon pleasure and 
the pretty things she loved? 

“ I explained in my letter.” 

66 You used an odd expression. You said you could 
not pay the bill.” 

“ I couldn’t.” 

“ Because you didn’t love me enough? ” 

293 


294 


THE PALADIN 


She caught the inflection of incredulity. 

“ Yes.” 

“Wasn’t I good to you? Didn’t I give you every- 
thing you wanted? ” 

“ You withheld your confidence.” 

“ I had to have time. I meant to marry you.” 

“Ah! You meant to marry me?” 

“Didn’t you know that? ” 

“ You never mentioned marriage.” 

“ Good heavens ! You believed me capable of base- 
ness, that I would take advantage, that ” 

His hand tightened upon hers, so that she winced 
with the pain of it. In a faltering tone, she entreated 
him to be calm. 

“ Calm ! I went to England to tell my uncle and 
mother that I meant to marry you. And I meant to 
marry you without asking any questions. And, while 
I was doing this, you were thinking that I held you 
lightly. You didn’t trust me. And you wrecked my 
life and your own.” 

How could she reply brutally: “Not mine!” He 
continued vehemently : “ I hurried back to find you 

gone. What a moment that was ! And then ” 

“Yes?” 

“ I tried to cast you out of my heart. My mother 
said that you had run away because you were not 
worthy, but now, since we have met again, there is 
something in your face which tells me she was mis- 
taken, although then, worthy or unworthy, I wanted 
you. Well, I believed her. I said to myself that the 
worst must have happened.” 


THE PALADIN 


295 


44 1 was not unworthy,” said Esther slowly ; 44 the 
worst had not happend. It’s strange, but it’s so.” 

44 It’s come out on your dear face,” he affirmed, with 
a passion which terrified her. 44 When we met again 
you seemed to me more beautiful, more desirable than 
ever. I read in your eyes all I wanted in a wife, all 
that I have not found.” 

44 1 entreat you to say no more.” 

44 I’m going to have this out. You shall know ex- 
actly what you’ve done. I married a woman who 
danced into my life and out of it before the honey- 
moon was over. I’ve never cared for anybody except 
you. I care for you still. I’d marry you to-morrow 
if I were free.” 

44 Harry, for pity’s sake ! ” 

But he was beyond stopping. Since marriage, 
Harry had denied himself nothing. If he had lived 
honourably, finding favour in the eyes of men, such a 
life had pleased him, satisfying his desire to shine as 
a paladin, an exemplar of virtues sometimes too ag- 
gressively British. In lesser things he had considered 
nothing higher than the whim or appetite of the min- 
ute. He had 44 done himself ” well, hailing the best of 
everything as 44 good enough ” for him. His slightly 
ostentatious charity, his labours in the hunting-field, 
his services to the Conservative party, his devotion to 
his mother, had not cost him one tiny act of self- 
denial or fortitude. If he had kept clear of syrens, 
we know the reason. Had not a syren 44 let him 
down ”? The only pain which he had ever suffered 
was inflicted by a woman’s hand. Accordingly, he 


29 6 


THE PALADIN 


shunned women, and was acclaimed, whether seriously 
or derisively, as a model husband. As a boy, cricket 
had kept him straight ; as a man, sport and politics 
exhausted his energies. In spite of his big muscles, it 
is possible that he was always lacking in vitality and 
virility. 

For the first time in his life he let himself go. 

What he said need not be set down. He repeated 
himself in a primal and savage fashion. His lamenta- 
tions had almost a Biblical tang to them. From the 
beginning, he implied that the Hand of the Lord had 
been heavy upon him. Job himself complained no more 
bitterly. David sang a less doleful miserere . 

He had loved and lost, through no fault of his. He 
held himself impeccable. Tears were in his voice — and 
perhaps in his eyes : tears of pity for a good fellow, 
who had always been a 66 tryer ” and “ played the 
game.” 

He ended as he had begun. 

“ I loved you ; I wanted to marry you ; I’d marry 
you to-morrow if I were free. You are the one woman 
in the world for me, and always will be.” 

What could she say in reply? 

She sat silent and still between the deep sea of truth 
into which she dared not plunge, and the devil which 
tempts all kind women to be compassionate to the men 
who love them and whom they cannot love. 

Sabrina, with her power of seeing deep into the heart 
of things, might have replied : “ My friend, this is 

madness which not even Midsummer would excuse ; and 
we are in a growler, splashing through mud and mist. 


THE PALADIN 


m 

You have wrecked your own life, if it is wrecked, which 
I don’t for a moment believe. You were taught at 
great expense to play the game, and you have not 
played it. You take for granted that I love you. I 
don’t love, I couldn’t love you. And nothing would 
induce me to marry you if you were free. If I 
had loved you, I should not have left Mont Plaisir, 
whether you held me lightly or not. And a man of 
your experience ought to know this. Your tale has 
moved me to pity and, I say it for your ultimate good, 
to contempt. It has stirred me almost to tears, and 
almost to laughter. Now, please tell the cabby to drive 
us back to Cavendish Square.” 

Could Esther say this — or anything like it? 

And being the woman she was, suffering, as has been 
said, from a superfluity of intelligence and sympathy, 
seeing so clearly the pathos and poignancy of the situ- 
ation, the lamentable difference between what the man 
was and what he might have been, unable to speak with 
candour for fear of hurting a benefactor, desperately 
sorry for him, for herself, and sorriest of all for the 
wife to whom she had given back a life not worth liv- 
ing, is it matter for surprise or criticism that she bowed 
her head and wept bitterly? 

Of course, our paladin misinterpreted those tears, 
which fell indeed like soft rain upon his burning soul. 
The tear-drops washed away misgivings. She had loved 
him! And she bolted because she believed that he, her 
lover, was about to present a monstrous bill. He ad- 
mired Esther for choosing poverty instead of dishon- 
our. It was amazing that she had not trusted him 


298 


THE PALADIN 


and held him blameless, but, granting that a sordid 
experience had discoloured her view of men, what could 
she do but bolt? These thoughts flew into his mind 
like homing pigeons, and cooed there melodiously. At 
last, he reflected, she saw him as he was. And she 
wept because she had not trusted him. 

44 Poor little woman,” he whispered. 

He could have chosen no better words to dry her 
tears; and when he tried to slip an enterprising arm 
around her waist, she recovered her composure and her 
sense of humour. 

44 I must go back to your wife,” she said. 

The paladin withdrew his hand. 

44 Ah ! my wife ! ” he exclaimed. 

44 You persist,” her voice grew steadier, 44 in your 
refusal to let me tell Mr. Napier the truth?” 

Napier aroused no vague alarms in him now, but he 
answered peremptorily : 44 Certainly, I refuse. And I 
understand all you would have me infer, when you say 
that you must go back to my wife. And I must go 
back to my wife. I know that.” 

44 Then, will you leave me ? ” 

44 If you wish it.” 

44 1 must have time to recover.” 

He stopped the cab and got out without further 
words, directing the cabman to drive back to Caven- 
dish Square. Esther saw him pay the man, and then 
he turned to her, his face faintly illumined by an elec- 
tric light shining through the still thick mist. He 
raised his hat, and stood bareheaded, while he whis- 
pered : 


THE PALADIN 


299 


“ I’m glad you know how it is with me. I’m not 
one of those who change. Good-night, dear Esther.” 

“ Good-night,” she said stiffly. 

She dined alone at a cheap restaurant, returning to 
Harley Street about ten. Going to her room, she met 
Peach, who eyed her with an insolent stare, and passed 
with a sniff and a toss of the head. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


AT THE TELEPHONE 

A week later, Sir Bedford Shifter’s perfectly ap- 
pointed carriage drew up at Napier’s door. From it 
descended the great man, to be ushered into the li- 
brary, where Napier received him with wrinkled front. 

“Very kind of you to come at once.” 

“Not at all, not at all. How is our patient?” 

“ I’m very much worried about her.” 

Sir Bedford, with a paternal gesture, laid his plump 
hand upon Napier’s shoulder. 

“ My dear fellow, you must be aware that whenever 
worry affects a medical man, it reacts injuriously upon 
his patient. I never allow myself to worry — never. 
Even when the worst comes to the worst, I say to my- 
self — er ” 

“ All is lost except our fees. 5 * 

Sir Bedford chuckled. 

“Ha — ha! Ve-ry good! Ve-ry neat! All is lost 
except our fees. Capital ! You will allow me to repeat 
your bon mot to His Royal Highness ? He has a sense 
of humour.” 

“You saw the charts a week ago?” 

“ I did. A remarkable record ; steady improvement, 
steady gain of weight. Ye-ry satisfactory.” 

“ Look at these.” 

He handed to Sir Bedford half a dozen sheets of 


300 


THE PALADIN 


301 


paper. The great man, pince-nez upon nose, perused 
them with gravity and concern, pursing a dubious 
lower lip and shaking his Olympian head. 

“ Dear, dear ! Increased irritability. Loss of appe- 
tite and weight. God bless me ! ” 

He stared, open-mouthed, at Napier, who said 
gloomily: “This confounded change followed, you 
will notice, hard on the heels of Lord Camber’s first 
visit. He has been here every day. Every day my 
stitches have been unpicked.” 

Sir Bedford dropped heavily into an arm-chair. 

“My dear Napier,” he protested, “I can’t let this 
pass unchallenged. If words mean anything, you im- 
ply that Lord Camber is responsible for this reaction. 
I have the highest regard for Camber. I have, known 
him ever since I brought him into the world. He’s 
the soul of honour and chivalry, quite a Bayard, I 
assure you.” 

“ He appears all that,” said Napier irritably; “but 
something went wrong in his baking.” 

Sir Bedford’s expression indicated that this was not 
the happiest way of speaking of a peer with forty 
thousand a year. 

“ One must expect slight relapses in these cases ; 
ebb and flow, systole and diastole.” 

“ This is not a slight relapse. The cardiac trouble 
is very serious. I thought I had it in hand. Some- 
thing which eludes me has brought it back. I’m think- 
ing of banishing the husband and the maid, that old 
woman, Peach, who is a mischief-maker, if I ever 
clapped eyes on one.” 


THE PALADIN 


30$ 

“ You must do as you deem proper.” 

“You say you brought Camber into the world? ” 

“ I did, indeed ; a fine lusty boy, weighed eleven 
pounds.” 

“And you’ve known him intimately ever since?” 

“ On and off — on and off.” 

“ Is he entangled with any woman ? ” 

“ My dear friend, who can answer such questions ? 
He has, I am sure deservedly, the reputation of being 
a devoted son and a devoted husband. I live in the 
world ; I hear a number of unpleasant stories, but never 
a word against Camber’s character. I believe him to 
be a Bayard, as I said just now. Entangled with a 
woman? Impossible. Years ago he paid attention, I 
remember, to some girl who lived in Palace Gardens.” 

“ He did not want his wife to get well.” 

“ Napier! This is morbid — monstrous! ” 

“ Hold hard.” 

He described Harry’s expression seen in the looking- 
glass. Sir Bedford remained unconvinced. 

“ How do we know what he had in his mind? In my 
judgment you have leaped to an unwarrantable con- 
clusion.” 

“ I should like to think so. Meanwhile my patient 
is going back.” 

“Do you wish me to see her?” 

“ It might frighten her. I wanted to ask about 
Camber. He seems to be perfection. Then perfection 
disagrees with my patient. Thank you very much.” 

Sir Bedford went his way, slightly perturbed, but 
consoling himself with the reflection that he himself 


THE PALADIN 


303 


had always been pessimistic about Lady Camber. 
Napier, to be sure, had tinkered her up in a wonderful 
fashion, but — w r ell, well, he personally had never been 
sanguine of a really lasting improvement. Napier, 
however, had a pretty wit. That 44 mot ” of his ! The 
Prince would enjoy it immensely and, likely as not, 
repeat it in august circles. 

Upstairs, upon the first floor, Lady Camber was 
being weighed by Esther. Outwardly, the preceding 
week had wrought little change. She and Peach be- 
lieved that health and strength had been restored. So 
strong was this conviction that both mistress and maid 
regarded Esther’s never- failing vigilance as unneces- 
sary. Peach, as we know, had good reason to think 
the worst of Esther, and only by the exercise of stren- 
uous self-denial was she able to postpone the eclaircis- 
sement which would reveal the “ darling of a nurse ” 
as a snake in the grass. Affection for Alice kept her 
silent. Nevertheless, not once, but a score of times, 
the secret which she hugged had almost slipped from 
her grasp. And to Esther her manner had become un- 
disguisedly insolent. Esther, setting this down to jeal- 
ousy, behaved with undiminished civility and good- 
temper. 

The scales recorded a loss of two pounds. 

44 Don’t look so distressed,” said Esther. 44 From 
your expression you might have lost a near re- 
lation.” 

44 1 could spare some of them, on my husband’s side. 
Two precious pounds gone.” 


THE PALADIN 


304 

Still grumbling to herself, Alice lay down upon the 
sofa. Esther fetched the clinical thermometer. 

44 Bother! What’s the use of that now?” 

“ Please!” 

Sullenly, Alice obeyed, but, holding the thermom- 
eter in her mouth, she winked and grimaced at Peach 
while Esther, with her back turned, was pouring out 
a glass of milk, taken now in daily diminishing doses. 
At this moment the telephone tinkled. Esther picked 
up the instrument. 

44 Certainly ; I’ll come at once.” 

Napier wished to see her, she explained, as she 
handed the milk to her patient, taking the thermom- 
eter and looking at it. 

44 Well, is it all right? ” 

44 Yes ; same as yesterday.” 

44 You wouldn’t tell me what it was yesterday. It’s 
so stupid making a mystery of it now that I’m 
well.” 

44 Doctor’s orders.” Esther recorded the tempera- 
ture on the day’s chart. 

44 How I loathe this milk ! ” 

44 Think what it has done for your complexion. 
Down with it. You won’t move till I come back? ” 

44 Tommy-rot again.” 

44 Promise? ” 

44 1 promise.” 

With a smile Esther vanished. As soon as the door 
had closed, Alice handed the glass of milk to Peach. 
44 Pour it away,” she commanded. 

44 My lady? ” 


THE PALADIN 


305 


66 Do as I tell you. Why do you wear such large 
boots? ” 

“ Because I ’ave large feet, I suppose,” retorted the 
old dresser, scowling at her. 

“ Don’t be cheeky! Take that milk away, go 
into the bedroom, and stay there. I don’t need 
you.” 

“ Yes, you do,” said Peach acidly. “ You need me 
more than you ever needed me in your life.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

Peach, aware that she had said too much, muttered, 
“ Nothing,” and then vanished. Alice stared at her 
ungainly retreating figure. “ She did mean some- 
thing,” she thought. 

Downstairs in the library Napier was talking to 
Esther. 

“ Temperature up ? ” 

“ Ninety-nine and a half.” 

“ That settles it. I shall pack the old woman out 
of the house to-day, and get rid of the husband to- 
morrow. Those two have caused this relapse. We’ve 
been going much too fast. Is your patient very irri- 
table? ” 

“ Very.” 

“ You look weather-worn, nurse. And we thought 
we were sailing along so smoothly. Well, you have 
handled her wonderfully; which reminds me that you 
had better speak to her about the maid’s going. Is 
she likely to make a rumpus ? ” 

“ I don’t think so. Lady Camber treats her maid 
roughly; and when she’s nice to me the poor faithful 


306 


THE PALADIN 


old soul chatters with rage. I agree with you that 
the sooner she goes the better.” 

“ Right ; speak to your patient at once, and report. 
One moment, please. We must keep her very quiet for 
the next ten days. But it’s all-important that she 
should not suspect this. That is why I wish you to 
speak to her about Peach. She might ask me awk- 
ward questions. You, of course, will know nothing.” 

Esther hesitated, then she said with a faint smile, 
“ ‘ Doctor’s orders ’ are a red rag to her.” 

“ Then don’t wave it. I leave it to your tact. By 
the way, what did you do with those memoranda you 
jotted down six weeks ago? ” 

“ They are in the laboratory, Mr. Napier. I’ll find 
them for you when I come back. Am I to break it to 
my patient that Lord Camber is to be exiled ? ” 

“ No ; one thing at a time. I’ll attend to that.” 

Esther nodded and returned to her patient, whom 
she found alone. 

“Where is your maid, Lady Camber?” 

Alice answered fretfully, “ I got rid of her ; she 
bores me.” 

The opportunity was too good to be missed. Esther 
sat down by the sofa, and said quietly : “ I have no- 
ticed Peach gets a little on your nerves. Don’t you 
think it would be wise to send her back to Grosvenor 
Square till you are a little stronger? ” 

“ I’m strong enough.” 

“ Convalescence is a trying time. And you ought 
to give yourself every possible chance. If Peach irri- 
tates you, and I see that she does ” 


THE PALADIN 


307 


“ She does ; stupid old fool ! ” 

“ In that case ” 

“ jolly glad you’ve mentioned it. Call her, 
please, and I’ll tell her to be off.” 

“ Not before me.” 

“Why not?” 

“ She is absurdly jealous of me. I wouldn’t hurt 
her feelings for the world. And promise me that you 
will do it quietly and kindly. You can tell her the 
truth ; that we have been going a little too fast. But 
be nice to her. It costs so little and it means so 
much.” 

“ You’re a good sort, nurse. I’ve been beastly to 
you lately.” 

“ I knew you were on edge.” 

“Do you know why I was beastly?” 

“ No.” 

“ I caught Camber looking at you in a way I didn’t 
like. And that’s not all. When we were alone, he’s 
talked about you when I wanted him to talk about 
me. Of course I’m a jealous fool. Why shouldn’t 
Camber like you if I like you? But you’ve something 
which I haven’t, a sort of distinction which appeals 
to him. You don’t look as if you’d been born on the 
Surrey side of the river. There! It’s out, and I’m 
glad of it.” 

Esther said slowly, “ Lord Camber has been very ” 
— she hesitated for a word, and a slightly derisive 
smile formed itself about Alice’s mouth — “ very atten- 
tive during the last week, hasn’t he? ” 

“ Oh — very ! ” She mimicked Esther with extraor- 


308 


THE PALADIN 


dinary fidelity. “ Lord Camber has been very, very 
attentive during the last week.” 

“You are clever! I can hear myself speaking.” 

Alice resumed her own voice, with its petulant in- 
flections. 

“ All the same, he was pretending. I’m positive he 
doesn’t care a hang for me. Attentive! Suffering 
Moses! When a woman is starving for kisses, do you 
think she is satisfied with flowers and compliments? 
Please call Peach ! ” 

“You will be nice to her?” 

“ Yes.” 

So the faithful one was summoned, and Esther, to 
make things easy, explained that she had promised to 
find some memoranda mislaid in the laboratory. Upon 
the threshold of the door, she turned to deliver last 
instructions. 

“ Don’t let my patient move, Mrs. Peach.” 

“ She’s safe enough in my ’ands,” retorted the old 
dresser, “ although they are big and red and clumsy.” 

“ You’re a silly old dear,” said Alice. 

At the word “ dear ” Peach’s face softened, and 
being ordered to sit down, she did so with complacency, 
as if exercising a long-withheld privilege. She could 
remember the day when Alice Snelling and she met as 
equals upon Clapham Common. And they had been 
friends, although five and thirty years lay between 
them. Peach was an ugly old maid then as now, but 
whenever she found herself alone with the pretty, 
blooming Alice, her desiccated old heart seemed to put 
forth buds of maternal tenderness. Alice had never 


THE PALADIN 


309 


been what Esther called 44 nice ” to her. And yet, in 
her way, Alice had been loyal and, when prosperity 
came to her, not ungenerous. Peach received a larger 
wage than that usually paid to experienced maids ; and 
she was not experienced, and never would be. 

44 Peach,” said Alice, after a pause, 44 I’m going to 
send you back to Grosvenor Square.” 

64 You are, are you? Well, I ain’t a-going.” 

44 You’re a faithful old thing, and you mean well, 
but you get on my nerves. It’s best to be honest. As 
Nurse Yorke says, I must give myself every chance.” 

46 Nurse Yorke says that, does she? ” 

Her hands, lying upon her lap, clenched themselves ; 
ugly lines showed deep upon her forehead and about 
her tightly-compressed lips. Her knees shook. 

44 You are wiggling your leg now. That sort of 
thing drives me perfectly wild. And if you could see 
your own face at this moment ! 99 

44 1 don’t want to see my face. I know well enough 
that I was be’ind the door when looks was bein’ served 
out.” 

44 1 am not going to argue with you. Nurse Yorke 
thinks you came too soon.” 

44 Really ! Nurse thinks I came too soon. So I did. 
I don’t deny it. Put me face to face with ’er, and I’ll 
admit it.” 

44 You are behaving like an idiot. Nurse Yorke has 
been very civil to you, and you’ve been outrageously 
rude to her. I’ve noticed it, and, at her request, I 
said nothing.” 

44 At her request ! Oh my ! ” 


310 


THE PALADIN 


The old woman was working herself into a frenzy of 
rage. Till now, she had held her tongue ; but certainly 
the time had come to speak, to deliver her soul, over- 
burthened with weighty proofs of black treachery and 
shame. She believed her mistress to be perfectly strong. 
This keeping her a prisoner was a detestable plot on 
the part of a faithless husband and a shameless woman. 
Indigation seethed within her, and boiled over. 

“ I ain’t a-going to stand this. There’s an objec’ 
in gettin’ rid of me.” 

“ An object? You’re the object. What are you 
shaking like that for ? ” 

“ I’m shakin’ with rage ; and, look here, if anybody’s 
going out of this house, bag and baggage, and more 
baggage than bag, it ain’t me.” 

“Are you crazy?” 

“ Nurse Yorke is a-going. That ’ussy ain’t fit to 
touch yer.” 

“ What? ” 

Peach leaned forward, shaking her hands, a-quiver 
with passion, speaking in an intense, truth-compelling 
voice which carried conviction to the poor creature at 
her mercy. She had wit enough to exaggerate nothing. 
She described the scene on the staircase, the meeting 
beneath the Bentinck statue, the waiting cab, the dis- 
appearance of the guilty pair, and, finally, Esther’s 
late return to Harley Street. Alice never moved. She 
lay there stunned and dizzy, hearing and feeling noth- 
ing but the throbbing of her own heart. It throbbed 
irregularly; now with hammer-like strength and regu- 


THE PALADIN 311 

larity, now slowly, feebly, and fitfully. Peach became 
alarmed. 

44 My lady, you ain’t goin’ to take this too ’ard, 
are you? Men will be men, and when it’s thrown at 
’em in chunks ! ” 

46 1 can’t believe it ! ” gasped Alice, but she believed 
every word of it. 

44 My lord wrote ’er a long letter this morning.” 

44 How do you know that ? ” 

Her wits were coming back, and with them a curious 
sense of strength and determination. She sat up, and 
the colour flowed into her cheeks. 

44 1 saw it on the hall table. Brazen, I call it ! 
Many’s the letter from my lord to you that I’ve — 
that I’ve seen. I know his twiggley g’s and h’s as 
well as I know the shape of your nose.” 

44 How she has humbugged me with her soft voice ! ” 
She began to imitate Esther. 44 4 Shall I read to you? 

Are you perfectly comfortable? ’ And all the time ! 

I feel as if I could kill her ! ” 

44 My lady, please lie down.” 

44 Not yet. Peach, I must see Lord Camber. I must 
have it out; I can’t stand suspense, never could.” 

She stood up, and waving Peach aside, began to 
walk up and down the room. Suddenly, she stopped 
at the telephone. 

44 I’ll ’phone him to come here at once.” 

44 Do you think that, bein’ a perfect gentleman, my 
lord ’ll give ’er away? Never! ” 

Alice picked up the instrument, which communicated 


312 


THE PALADIN 


with the hall, hesitated, glanced at Peach, and then 
said slowly, 46 He might not come for me.” 

44 He would for ’er.” 

“ For her? ” She nodded. 44 That’s an idea. Take 
the ’phone. Tell the man to get me connected with our 
number, 00746 Gerrard.” 

Peach obeyed, and with a frightened look upon her 
face. There was something about her mistress which 
she had never seen before: an inflexibility of purpose, 
the will dominating the body. Alice took the instru- 
ment from Peach’s hand and waited. When she spoke, 
she had assumed Esther’s voice. 

“ Of all the artful dodgers ! 99 muttered Peach. 

44 Is Lord Camber at home ? He is ? Please tell his 
lordship that Nurse Yorke, Nurse — Yorke — yes, wishes 
to speak to him.” 

Peach sat down, trembling. She had lighted a fuse 
which was about to fire a mine. And conviction seized 
her that her act had been premature, and that the ex- 
plosion would injure the one person whom she desired 
to save. She covered her face with the rough, clumsy 
hands which had worked long and faithfully for Alice, 
and waited. 

44 Was the voice all right?” said Alice in a whisper. 

Peach made a futile effort to extinguish the fuse. 

44 My lady, chuck it. Don’t pretend to be that ’ussy. 
You may ’ear something awful. It ain’t the game for 
you. Ask my lord to come here in your own voice.” 

44 Hold your tongue,” said Alice. 

Peach saw a terrible smile upon Alice’s lips, no 
longer pink but tinged with blue, in striking contrast 


THE PALADIN 


313 


to her flushed cheeks. Then she heard Esther’s soft 
voice reproduced with a perfection that confounded 
her. 

“ Yes, yes, it is I — Esther. Can you come here 
at once? Oh! you can, at great inconvenience, to 
please me! Eh? Did I get your letter this morning? 
Yes. My answer? Not through a telephone! You 
say you know that the answer will be 6 yes.’ How do 
you know that? Do you mean that you never would 
have written such a letter unless you had known what 
the answer would be. What? I’m your darling, am 
I? Eh? No — I won’t. Don’t be absurd! Come at 
once. Good-bye.” 

With a steady hand she replaced the instrument, 
and turned to Peach, cowering in her chair. 

“ You heard what I said? ” 

“ Yes.” 

Alice laughed. 

“ I think we can guess what was in that letter.” 

“ My lady, lie down.” 

“ Yes ; I’ll lie down. She may be back any minute. 
I’m feeling astonishingly fit. He asked me to send a 
kiss through the ’phone.” She laughed again. “ Don’t 
look so miserable. We’re going to have some fun. But 
I want an audience. We must have the doctor, and 
his precious nurse, the best in the world, and his lord- 
ship, who has been so very attentive! Attentive — to 
her! ” She lay down upon the sofa, with the same set 
smile upon her face, showing the white teeth between 
the bluish lips. Tears trickled down Peach’s cheeks. 

“ I wish I’d killed myself before I spoke.” 


314* THE PALADIN 

“ I’m glad you had the honesty to speak. Stop cry- 
ing at once.” 

44 Very good, my lady.” 

44 Not that it matters. She’ll think you’re howling 
because you have to leave me. Give me that paper.” 

An illustrated paper lay on the table. Alice turned 
over its pages, waiting for Esther to return. Within 
a few minutes Esther entered. 

46 You hav’n’t moved? ” 

44 No,” said Alice. 44 You can go now, Peach.” 

44 Thank you, my lady.” 

As soon as nurse and patient were alone, Esther said, 
44 1 hope you made it plain to her that in a very short 
time my services to you will be at an end.” 

44 She understands that perfectly,” said Alice. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


WE BEHOLD THE PALADIN CORNERED 

Before the paladin enters, we must record certain 
trifling events which, in combination, led to the writing 
of that letter to which allusion has just been made. 
Since the interview in the cab, Harry and Esther had 
not met except in Alice’s presence. As you may imagine 
such a stickler for propriety as Harry had taken par- 
ticular pains to behave to his wife’s nurse with that 
happy mixture of courtesy and gratitude which the 
case warranted. Nevertheless, the wife had intercepted 
a glance which aroused jealousy and helped to retard 
convalescence. There had been other glances which she 
had not intercepted. To say that these furtive mani- 
festations distressed Esther is to put it mildly. And 
her distress became the more acute, because she was 
so sorry for Harry and so unwilling to wound him by 
putting into brutal words what she had come to recog- 
nise as a fact — that he bored her to tears. Also she 
resented intensely his attitude towards Alice; and she 
could have shaken him when he was “ attentive ” in 
his cold-blooded, smiling fashion. Behind this, never 
to be forgotten, was the overwhelming debt she owed 
him. The mere thought of it palsied action. At night 
she lay awake, obsessed by a vague terror, the pre- 
sentiment of approaching evil so curiously strong in 
many women. Such sleep as she snatched from these 
315 


316 


THE PALADIN 


baleful hours was uneasy and troubled by nightmare 
imaginings. Each morning she awoke terribly tired, 
hardly able to drag herself out of bed. And these 
symptoms had preceded the nervous breakdown which 
came upon her after the nursing of the Duchess of 
Belbury. And, in an even more aggravated form, they 
had tormented her in the Southampton slum, culmi- 
nating, as we know, in the overthrow of mind and mem- 
ory. To many of us the possibility of losing one’s 
reason is a more terrible matter than insanity itself. 
Esther was aware that the insane are not unhappy, 
as a rule — very much the contrary. But she could 
never think without horror of those weeks when she 
became a sort of child, who kissed a strange Mr. 
Browne and sat on his knee. She prayed that she 
might die rather than again live on as somebody 
else. 

Of course Harry’s furtive glances could only mean 
one thing — he believed that she returned his love. We 
may hazard the conjecture that his confidence on this 
point opened her eyes wider to the fact that, so far 
from loving him, she adored somebody else — his an- 
tithesis in every respect. She knew that her fit of weep- 
ing in the cab had been accepted by Harry as a sort 
of unconditional surrender. The thought that she had 
been so weak at the moment when the exercise of com- 
mon-sense and courage would have saved both of them 
made her furious with herself and with him. She had 
made up her mind to write, when his letter arrived and 
the envelope caught the eye of the faithful Peach. 
We present it in full: 


THE PALADIN 


317 


My Dear Esther, — For a week I have tried to find an oppor- 
tunity to see you alone, but the difficulties have been too much 
for me. And in another week, or at most a fortnight, my wife 
will return to my house. This doctor has hinted that her illness 
was largely due to indifference on my part. To day, she has 
recovered her health, but I cannot help remarking that I seem 
to distress her, although you must know that I have done every- 
thing in my power to co-operate cordially in her cure. I seem 
to irritate the poor creature, and Heaven knows she irritates 
me, sometimes beyond endurance. For the future our lives must 
lie apart. I am not one to tamper rashly with the marriage 
laws of this country, still I have always held the opinion that 
in certain cases the outward observance of them might well be a 
greater offence against true morality than their breach. I lay 
emphasis upon this, for whether you say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to the 
question I am about to put, I shall certainly live apart from 
Lady Camber for the future, and nothing will shake me in that 
resolve. 

And now, have you the pluck to seize happiness when it is 
offered to you by the man who has always loved you devotedly? 
Will you trust yourself to me? I am incapable of taking ad- 
vantage of such trust. We will go back to Mont Plaisir, if you 
like, and wait patiently till my wife divorces me. That she will 
do so as speedily as possible I have no doubt. Then, and not 
till then, our real life together will begin. I shall say no more. 
Let what I have done in the past plead for me now. Had woman 
ever a more faithful lover than I have been? We love each 
other, all the sweetness of the world lies in those four words. 

Your devoted, faithful 

Harry. 


Upon reading this effusion, Esther’s first impulse 
was to scribble “ No ” upon a telegraph form and 
despatch it. She felt she could not meet Harry till 
this was done. Then she remembered that he was not 
coming to Harley Street upon that day, under plea 
of an important engagement. Accordingly, she de- 
cided to write, and went about her work turning over 


318 


THE PALADIN 


certain sentences in her mind. Few men and women 
engrossed in their own work find time or inclination to 
force duty upon others. Esther, probably, would have 
held her peace, had she not sympathised so ardently 
with Alice, whose very life depended upon Harry’s fi- 
delity and kindness. To make this plain to a man who, 
admittedly, had some fine qualities would be really 
worth while, and a new way of paying an old debt. 
She became enthusiastic over the alchemy of it — the 
transmuting of base metal into gold; and, forced to 
take action, felt relieved of the intolerable burden of 
passivity. 

Such was the temper of her mind and spirit, when 
Buckle ushered Lord Camber into his wife’s sitting- 
room. The paladin appeared in golfing kit. He passed 
Esther with a discreet bow and smile, and saluted 
Alice. 

“ Dropped in for a minute just to see how you were 
this morning.” 

Alice turned a sparkling pair of eyes upon his stock- 
ings. There had been moments when Esther was forced 
to the conclusion that Harry’s underpinning was better 
than his understanding. 

“ You had an important engagement to play 
golf.” 

66 Oh, ah! Ye-es. Mornin’, Nurse!” 

“ Good-morning, Lord Camber.” 

“ What a colour you have, Alice. I must really have 
a chat with Nurse Yorke presently, and find out what 
she does to you.” 

Alice said sharply : “ Do you want to say some- 


THE PALADIN 319 

thing to Nurse Yorke that you can’t say here be- 
fore me ? ” 

Harry laughed genially. His voice had never been 
so easy and pleasant as he replied: “You dear soul! 
You know Napier’s ironclad rules. No discussion of 
the patient’s condition before her ! Quite sound ! But 
I want details. Everything Nurse Yorke tells me in- 
terests me enormously.” 

u I dare say. Harry, what’s the real reason that 
brings you here P ” 

“ I wanted to hear the last word.” 

“ There was the telephone.” 

“ Like a good husband I wanted to see with my own 
eyes just how you were.” 

Esther, turning her back, moved across to the chim- 
ney-piece. 

“ I’ve lost two pounds in two days. I’m not quite 
so well. I thought perhaps someone had sent for you.” 

Esther marked her emphasis on the verb. 

“ What ideas you have, Alice.” 

“ That’s not an answer. Did anyone in this house 
send for you? ” 

He hesitated for a second, before he answered em- 
phatically: “Nobody.” 

“ You — liar! ” 

“ Alice!” 

As she spoke, she sat up, pointing at him a denun- 
ciatory finger. Instantly, she became transformed into 
a beautiful Fury. Fire seemed to flash from her eyes. 
Esther, appalled at the change, hurried forward. 

“ Lady Camber ! ” 


320 


THE PALADIN 


“ Hold your tongue ! ” In a more restrained but 
tenser tone, she addressed her husband : 44 1 know why 
you came here. To carry on a shameful intrigue with 
this woman.” 

44 Good heavens ! ” 

44 1 know — everything.” 

44 What do you know, Alice?” He spoke sullenly, 
in a thick, bewildered tone. 

44 Enough to drive any wife crazy.” 

She stood up with a certain dignity. In a trembling 
voice Esther said : 44 Lady Camber, for your own sake 
I beseech you to lie down.” 

44 To lie down ! And you, and you, have struck me 
this blow while I have been lying down. But now I’m 
up and strong, able to defend myself, to strike back. 
Everybody in this house shall know what manner of 
woman you are. Send for Mr. Napier. I want to see 
his face when I tell him that his precious humbug of a 
nurse — the best in the world — is no better than a drab 
out of the streets.” 

44 How dare you ? ” thundered Harry. 

Esther interposed, very pale, but calm and even at 
that moment thinking of her patient, and of her in- 
structions. 

44 Lord Camber, remember that she is still weak. 
Lady Camber, there is some horrible mistake.” 

44 Mistake! We’ll see. Harry, you pride yourself 
upon being an honest gentleman. Do you love this 
woman ? ” 

He flung a hunted glance at Esther. She responded 
with an imperative message not to be misinterpreted. 


THE PALADIN 


321 


If he were truly a gentleman, let him lie now — magnifi- 
cently. But the message was intercepted by an in- 
telligence more acute than our paladin’s. 

“ Do you think he can throw dust in my eyes ? 
Harry, swear to me, if you can ” — she seized his arm 
— “ swear to me that this woman is nothing to you.” 

He opened his lips and closed them. 

“ You can’t.” She laughed drearily, relaxing her 
grasp of his arm as if relinquishing all that made life 
worth living. Then passion again shook her as she 
turned to Esther : “ And you, will you swear that this 
man is nothing to you?” 

“ Yes,” said Esther steadily. “ He is — nothing.” 

Afterwards, it came to her that she could have said 
no word more likely to inflame her patient. To Alice, 
the denial was so false, so shameless, so impudent, that 
it broke down all barriers and conventions. She be- 
came the primal woman, aflame to wipe out insult 
with injury. 

“ You — you ! ” 

She raised her hand to strike, hesitated, gave a pite- 
ous gasp, and then, tearing convulsively at the chiffon 
about her neck, staggered and fell insensible at her 
husband’s feet. 

“ She has fainted,” said Harry hoarsely. Esther was 
on her knees beside the stricken woman, as Peach 
rushed in from the bedroom. 

“ You’ve killed her between you ! ” she exclaimed 
fiercely. 

“ Hold your tongue ! ” said Harry. 

“ Fetch Mr. Napier,” said Esther. 


322 


THE PALADIN 


She looked at Harry, who obeyed. The two women 
lifted Alice on to the sofa. She lay there insensible, 
breathing heavily and with grinding effort. 

“ What did you tell her? ” said Esther. She divined 
that Peach had caused this terrible trouble during 
those few minutes spent in the laboratory searching for 
the mislaid memoranda. Peach answered grimly : 
44 What did I tell her? Never mind what I told ’er. 
She knows you ain’t fit to touch ’er ! ” 

44 If Lady Camber dies,” said Esther dully, 44 you 
have killed her.” 

44 Reely. I wonder what Mr. Napier will say to 
that ? ” 

Esther, in silence, continued her ministrations, the 
application of such remedies as were at hand. She 
worked mechanically, doing all that was possible, but 
her brain was in confusion. She could no longer think 
lucidly. A monstrous terror possessed her; a hideous 
conviction blurred and distorted mental vision. 44 I am 
going mad — I am going mad,” she repeated to herself, 
and then in despairing protest — 46 Not that, O God! 
anything but that ! ” 

Napier entered, followed by Harry. Confronted with 
an emergency, the doctor had become cool and impas- 
sive. Not a trace of nervousness was visible, as he 
examined his patient swiftly and in silence. When he 
spoke his voice seemed to Esther the voice of some 
implacable judge. Knowing nothing, as yet, he held 
her responsible. 

44 Run to the laboratory,” he said, 44 fetch some 
ether.” 


THE PALADIN 


323 


Esther sped from the room. Napier stood up, look- 
ing at Harry. 

“ How did this happen, Lord Camber? ” 

“ I can tell you everything,” said Peach, in a whim- 
per. She had begun to blame herself, but not as she 
blamed these others. 

“ Leave the room 1 ” commanded Harry. 

“ Yes,” said Napier. 

Peach hesitated, but went. After all, she reflected, 
her tale would keep. This doctor would be glad enough 
to listen to her presently. 

“ Can’t you do something? ” said Harry. 

“ Not yet. How did this come to pass? ” 

Our paladin answered mumblingly. This, in itself, 
was not unnatural, but it struck Napier as odd that 
he should pick and choose his words. 

“ I dropped in to see how my wife was,” he began. 
“ It annoyed her to discover that I was going to play 
golf. She got rather excited and — and hysterical. 
Then she stood up.” 

“ She stood up? Nurse Yorke permitted that?” 

“ We tried to prevent her. She began a rigmarole 
about my not loving her, and then, suddenly, she col- 
lapsed.” 

“ I see.” 

“ She behaved like a mad woman,” added Harry. 
Then an inspiration came to him. “ That woman 
Peach has made trouble.” 

“ I knew it,” murmured Napier. 

“ She said something just now about telling you 
everything. She wasn’t present.” His voice sank to 


THE PALADIN 


324 

a whisper : “ And I ought to warn you that she’s 

unscrupulous and a liar.” 

“ I’m obliged to you,” said Napier, drily, as Esther 
entered. He addressed her in a curt professional tone : 
“ We must get Lady Camber to bed at once. Lord 
Camber, will you wait here ? ” 

Alice was carried into the bedroom, and an instant 
later Peach came out, red in the face and trembling 
with rage. She passed Harry with a furious glare. 

“ Where are you going? ” 

“ To fetch Nurse Richards.” 

“One moment, please.” 

He came towards her, with a sudden resolution flush- 
ing his face. 

“ I don’t know your game, my woman, but you 
mean mischief.” 

“ Per— ’aps.” 

“ Just so. Per — haps ! Have you saved much? ” 

“Nothing to speak of. Why?” 

“ You’re not a fool, and you ought to know by this 
time that your mistress will drop you like a broken 
crutch when you cease to be of service to her.” 

“ Reely ? And when she drops me, I’m to come to 
you, my lord, eh? ” 

The cunning of a woman born in Whitechapel, and 
as a child constrained to fight for her own hand with 
prematurely sharpened wits, gleamed in her small beady 
eyes. 

“Yes, you’ll come to me; and I’ll settle on you 
enough to keep you out of the workhouse, because you 
had your ear to the keyhole just now,” 


THE PALADIN 


325 


66 Yes, I did. I’m not ashamed of it neither.” 

“ I think we understand each other? ” 

“ We do. But I dessay, if needful, your lordship will 
set it down in black and white ? ” 

“ If you hold your tongue — yes. A pound a week ! 
Now go and fetch Nurse Richards.” 

As Peach disappeared, Harry wiped his forehead. 
He told himself that he was in a tight place from 
which will and resource must extricate him. He lis- 
tened. No sound came from the bedroom. He won- 
dered vaguely why the other nurse had been sum- 
moned. He sat down to make some plan of campaign. 
If he could only see Esther! Together, they could 
surely find a way out of this confounded wood. Alice’s 
extraordinary outbreak was due, of course, to jealousy. 
By some mischance she had found out that he had 
talked to Esther through the telephone. She could 
know nothing of what had passed within the last 
week. 

He was hugging this comfort to his soul, and de- 
riving a certain amount of warmth from it, when Esther 
entered. 

“ Nurse Richards has taken my place,” she ex- 
plained. 

“ Why? ” 

“ I had to tell Mr. Napier that it might imperil 
my patient’s chance if she found me in attendance when 
she recovered consciousness.” 

“ Has she recovered consciousness ? ” 

“ No.” 

“What on earth brought this about? Esther, we 


326 THE PALADIN 

must put our heads together. How strangely you 
look!” 

“ I feel strange. Mr. Napier holds me responsible 
for this.” 

“ How did Alice find out that you had telephoned 
to me? ” 

“Telephoned to you?” 

She repeated the words, staring at him, asking her- 
self if she had telephoned to him, if, already, her mem- 
ory was beginning to play her false. 

“ I was not long in getting here, was I? ” 

“ I never telephoned to you.” 

“ What?” 

“ I never telephoned to you.” 

“ But, it was your voice. You asked me to come 
here at once.” 

“ Somebody else, not I.” 

She put her hand to her head, as if by that simple 
gesture she might evoke greater order out of chaos. 

“ Pull yourself together, Esther! You’re dazed, and 
no wonder! But we haven’t a moment. We had a long 
talk through the telephone. I’d know your voice 
among ten thousand.” 

“ I was not there.” 

“ Then who was? Good heavens! Not, not — Alice? 
Yes — it must have been Alice ! ” 

“ She can mimic me exactly. What did you say to 
her? ” 

Gradually her strength was returning. Harry’s be- 
wilderment seemed to have a tonic effect. She per- 
ceived that Alice, possibly out of mere mischief, had 


THE PALADIN 


327 


called up Harry in her name. But, as yet, the prob- 
able consequence had not developed itself. 

“What did you say?” 

He turned aside his eyes. 

“ I spoke of that letter I wrote last night. Fortu- 
nately, I didn’t say what was in it ! ” 

“ Oh, that letter ! That you should have dared to 
write it ! ” 

“ Dared? ” 

“Oh, how could you write it? You don’t under- 
stand what you have done.” 

With a tremendous effort she detached her mind 
from consideration of her own feelings. 

“ Tell me exactly what you said through the tele- 
phone.” 

“ I’m afraid I gave myself away. We must face 
that.” 

“ Poor woman ! Poor, unhappy creature ! ” 

“ Esther, I’m horrified at what has happened. But 
Alice brought this on herself. How dared she pretend 
to be you ! ” 

“ Poor thing ! ” murmured Esther, obsessed by the 
vision of this weak, loving woman listening to her own 
death sentence. 

“ We must make plans. I have squared Peach al- 
ready.” 

“You have squared Peach!” 

“ Promised her a pension ! ” 

At last Esther was beginning to see clearly, with a 
vision which throws one particular object into perfect 
focus to the exclusion of what may surround it. And 


328 


THE PALADIN 


that object was herself, enmeshed by circumstance, by 
lies, by a thousand threads fine as those composing a 
spider’s web. 

“ You have bribed this servant to lie, and you are 
about to ask me to lie, and you will lie.” 

“ First and last we must lie to save her. She knows 
nothing — remember that! I shall tell Napier about the 
telephone, before Alice tells him. I shall make him be- 
lieve that the whole thing was a joke.” 

66 A joke!” 

“ I guessed that Alice was impersonating you. Do 
you see? And then, to carry on the joke, I played 
up. Why not ? ” 

“ That you should ask such a question ! ” 

“Well, and what do you propose?” 

“ To tell Mr. Napier everything, when he comes out 
of that room. Here and now, before I go mad.” 

As the thought of her poor mind failing again pre- 
sented itself, she trembled, relaxed by that abominable 
enervation which she had come to recognise and dread 
as a physical lesion. Harry, seeing her weakness, be- 
gan to put increasing faith in his own strength. 

“ Has it struck you,” he asked, “ that Napier may 
not believe your story ? ” 

“ He must, if you corroborate it.” 

“And if I — don’t? You are driving me into a 
corner, Esther. Are you quite fair to me? You ac- 
cuse me of asking you to lie. I am incapable of that. 
If dirty work has to be done, I shall do it. All I ask 
is silence, which always baffles a clever man.” 


THE PALADIN 329 

“ Who will take my silence against Lady Camber’s 
speech ? ” 

u I shall answer my wife. This matter concerns us 
far more than you. You know nothing; you were not 
at the telephone ; you are at a loss to understand your 
patient’s violence.” 

Esther shuddered. She heard his soft voice, which 
long ago had been sweeter than any music to hear: 
44 Trust me, dear. Believe that I will act for the best 
in her interest and in yours, not in my own, I swear.” 

She could not speak, trying to weigh his words, pray- 
ing that she might be guided to do the right thing, 
and piteously aware that the time for doing it had 
passed for ever. Harry’s voice took an even softer 
inflection, as he whispered: 44 Would you try to clear 
yourself at my expense ? ” 

She stared at him helplessly. Did speech to Napier 
mean that? Yes, Napier would believe her. She could 
clear herself in his eyes, at the expense of the man who 
had saved her life and reason. And silence meant the 
discharge of her debt and the loss of Napier’s confi- 
dence. The two issues shone out of the darkness. Very 
heavily, she replied : 44 1 shall not clear myself at your 
expense.” 

44 1 knew you wouldn’t,” he exclaimed ardently. 


CHAPTER XXV 


TALIN 

Harry walked to the window. He had been trained in 
a school which leaves well enough alone, and in ob- 
taining from Esther a renewal of her pledge, he was 
aware that enough for the moment had been accom- 
plished. Any reference to his letter, any further as- 
sertion of his fidelity would be, he reflected, untimely 
and ill-bred. How gallantly Esther had confronted 
Alice! And, obviously, she was worn out, almost 
crazy, by the stress of circumstances. 

He turned his thoughts resolutely from the wife 
who was struggling for breath in the next room. Not 
for one moment did he believe that her condition was 
serious. These doctors always exaggerated ; then al- 
ways, after a cure had been effected, they took 
the greater credit to themselves. The outward change 
in Alice, the force and fire with which she had spoken, 
convinced him that her complete recovery was a mere 
matter of days. This affair was unfortunate, shocking, 
but she had brought it on herself. 

He was fortifying himself with these reflections when 
Napier entered the room. Esther had sat down, clos- 
ing her eyes, which were throbbing with neuralgic pain, 
and, for the moment, letting herself drift upon a tide 
which was sweeping her into an unknown but troublous 
330 


THE PALADIN 331 

sea. She heard Napier’s step, and rose to receive 
him. 

“ Is she better? ” 

“ There is not likely to be a change. Lord Camber, 
Nurse Yorke, will you come down to the library?” 

They followed him in silence. His face had altered 
in expression ; impassivity had given place to a hard 
intentness, the look of a man wrestling with some diffi- 
cult problem. He went to his desk on reaching the 
library. When he spoke his voice was incisively, coldly 
judicial. Esther felt that he had suspended judgment. 
He addressed her first : 

“ You told me that Nurse Richards had better take 
your place, because your patient was incensed with 
you. Can you account for her being incensed with 
you? ” 

“ I can,” said Harry. “ I’m going to speak with 
entire frankness, Mr. Napier.” 

Napier bowed a frigid acknowledgment. 

“ Very thoughtlessly, I have been the cause of this 
anger on Lady Camber’s part against Nurse Yorke. 
An unfortunate joke has brought about the catas- 
trophe.” 

“A joke?” 

“ My wife is a capital mimic. In fact, she achieved 
celebrity as a mimic. I presume that during her rest- 
cure she amused herself by learning to mimic her 
nurse. To-day, as you know, it had been settled that 
I was not to call. As a matter of fact I had promised 
to play golf. A man must take some exercise. Lady 
Camber may have resented my not coming as usual. 


332 


THE PALADIN 


At least I infer as much. And then, she was unhappily 
inspired to play a practical joke on me. She tele- 
phoned to me in Nurse Yorke’s name.” 

“You permitted this?” Napier asked Esther. 

“I was absent, looking for your memoranda.” 

“ True ! Go on, Lord Camber.” 

“ For a moment she completely took me in. I be- 
lieved that Nurse Yorke was asking me to come here 
at once. And I took for granted that there was a 
reason. I said that I would come.” 

“And then?” 

“ It is not easy to put into words what followed.” 

“ If you will speak, as you suggest, with entire 
frankness.” 

“ Quite — quite ! At the moment when I promised to 
come as soon as possible, I recognised my wife’s voice. 
Naturally I, on my side, attempted, in retaliation, you 
know, to have a little bit of harmless fun at her ex- 
pense.” 

“ Yes.” 

Our paladin began to grow warm beneath a glance 
assuredly cold enough to keep him cool. And he re- 
sented Napier’s attitude. Why did the fellow stand, 
when his guest was seated? Detestable manners ! 

“ Well, I said one or two things, the merest nonsense, 
on purpose to provoke her, intending to come on at 
once and have a little laugh.” 

“What things?” 

“ You mustn’t press a husband too hard. I was 
speaking to my wife ■” 

“ And my patient.” 


THE PALADIN 


333 


44 And your patient, but, pardon me, I had ceased to 
regard Lady Camber as an invalid. I believed that 
you had restored her to vigorous health.” 

44 What things did you say?” 

44 1 was foolish, I admit it, but the provocation was 
great. I said one or two things which may have led 
her to believe that a mild flirtation was going on be- 
tween Nurse Yorke and myself.” 

44 Good God!” 

At once our paladin stiffened, the geniality went 
out of his voice. 

44 1 venture to remind you, Mr. Napier, that I was 
speaking privately with my wife.” 

44 Through a public telephone.” 

44 As you say, and therefore a man of your intelli- 
gence might well infer that nothing unseemly was said. 
Had I suspected that my wife would not have guessed 
that I had found her out and was merely teasing her, 
you may be sure that I should not have ventured on 
the joke at all.” 

Napier glanced at Esther. His frown deepened as 
he perceived in her a curious and quite unaccountable 
acquiescence in this amazing story. He said sharply: 
44 Lord Camber seems to overlook the fact that this 
little joke of his has seriously compromised you.” 

Harry answered hastily — 44 1 did overlook that. I’m 
heartily ashamed of myself. Can a man say more? ” 

44 Please finish the story.” 

44 She kept it up to the last. I swear that if you 
had been at my end of the telephone you would have 
thought that she was much amused.” 


33 4 


THE PALADIN 


This, as we know, was true, and a happy touch on 
the part of our paladin. 

44 And then ?” 

44 I came on to enjoy a good laugh. Picture my dis- 
may when my wife, after virtually admitting that she 
had joined in the joke by asking me, in Nurse Yorke’s 
presence, whether anyone had sent for me, suddenly 
sprang to her feet, and insulted first myself and then 
Nurse Yorke, who was in absolute ignorance of what 
had passed.” 

44 But you explained? ” 

44 I hadn’t time. She behaved like a madwoman. She 
dared to ask Nurse Yorke if I was anything to her? ” 

44 And you replied, nurse ? ” 

44 I replied that he was absolutely — nothing.” 

For the first time Esther answered with vehemence. 

44 And that is all, Lord Camber? ” 

44 That is all. I presume that Peach was present 
when my wife telephoned me. What mischief she made, 
I can’t tell. It seems that she had been furiously 
jealous of Nurse Yorke.” 

Napier nodded. It was impossible to determine, 
from his expression, whether or not he believed Harry’s 
story. He said frigidly, 44 Have I your permission to 
explain this little joke to your wife? ” 

44 By all means, unless you allow me ” 

Napier held up his hand. 

44 1 can’t allow you to see her at all for a few days. 
I will let you know as soon as she recovers conscious- 
ness. Meantime, it might be as well not to leave town.” 

Some of the paladin’s too florid colour faded. 


THE PALADIN 


335 


“ You don’t mean,” he said, pausing and turning 
frightened eyes upon Napier, 44 that there is any — 
danger? ” 

“ Yes,” Napier replied. “ I mean that Lady Cam- 
ber’s life hangs by a thread.” 

The paladin rose. 

“ I shall stay at home,” he said. 44 I had no idea — • 
I ” 

He went out of the room, shaken and confounded. 
The door had hardly closed when Napier said to 
Esther : 

46 Have you anything to add to Lord Camber’s 
story ? ” 

44 Nothing.” 

She spoke in a tone he had never heard from her 
before. 

44 You are quite sure?” 

She made an effort to rouse herself. 

44 When I left the laboratory and went upstairs, 
Lady Camber was on the sofa. She told me that she 
had not moved. I noticed nothing odd in her manner, 
nothing at all. She had, perhaps, rather more colour 
than usual. Then Lord Camber came in. The rest 
is as he described it. My patient’s attack on me, 
so violent, so unexpected, overwhelmed me.” 

He saw that she was dazed and began to pity her. 
But tempering his pity was the intuition that the truth 
had not been told, and that this woman knew it. And 
this filled him with indignation. The supreme impor- 
tance of knowing everything at such a moment, 
coupled with the sense that he was groping in the dark, 


3 36 


THE PALADIN 


irritated him beyond endurance. He told himself that 
he could not accept the husband’s story. It was too 
thin. Had he not studied his patient in her many 
moods for six weeks? And from the first he had per- 
ceived that she was no fool. Hysterical, emotional, 
lacking in self-control — yes, but of quick perceptions, 
shrewd, and affectionate. That such a woman, upon 
so slight a pretext, should go to pieces — this was in- 
credible. 

He took up one of the many speaking tubes near 
his desk. Esther heard him ask Nurse Richards if 
there was any change. She saw that he frowned as 
he listened to her reply. His quick response followed 
— “ I’ll come at once.” He laid down the tube and 
looked at Esther. “ What is the matter? ” 

“ I am puzzled, bewildered. If you can give me 
something to do, anything to distract me, it will be a 
kindness.” 

“ The laboratory is in an awful mess.” 

“ I’ll put things straight.” 

“ If I want anything, I’ll speak to you through the 
tube. Send it up at once.” 

“Very good.” 

He examined her intently, and beneath his steadfast 
gaze a slight colour flowed into her pale cheeks. 

“ I think you ought to lie down and rest.” 

“ No, no — I couldn’t ! Anything but that.” 

He nodded and walked to the door. Upon the 
threshold he turned and came back. Probably he 
was unaware of any harshness either in his voice or 
look, being engrossed, obsessed, in his quest of a so- 


THE PALADIN 337 

lution to a problem to which she might be withholding 
the key. 

“ Under the circumstances I must relieve you of any 
further responsibility in this case? ” 

“ Can I return to my friend, Miss Jagg? ” 

He remarked a note of eagerness in her voice. Why 
should she be in such a hurry to leave the house ? 

“ No,” he answered decidedly. “ To-morrow, per- 
haps. We will see.” 

He went out. 

Esther stood in the centre of the room, knowing that 
her debt to Harry had been paid. The only man whose 
good opinion she prized, the man whom she loved, dis- 
trusted her and had not scrupled to show that distrust 
plainly. He knew — was it conceivable that he should 
not know? — what her silence must mean — a deliberate 
attempt to keep him in abhorred darkness. As nurse 
she had committed the unpardonable sin. 

With a heavy sigh she went into the laboratory, the 
scene of their joint labours, the place wherein she had 
found romance. Mechanically, she began to arrange 
things. Every familiar object he had touched. How 
keen, how unwearied he had been in his search for those 
subtile, elusive essences which might assuage human 
suffering. Again and again she had observed the signs 
of fatigue ; the frail body driven to exhaustion by the 
indomitable will. Would such a man, unsparing of him- 
self in the prosecution of what he had deemed duty, 
spare her? 

She worked swiftly, putting each object into its 
place. She would never work here again, whether that 


338 


THE PALADIN 


poor creature upstairs lived or died. If Alice lived 
she would speak, and Napier would discover how 
grossly he had been deceived. If she died, it w r as as 
inevitable that the doctor, robbed of a great triumph, 
must for ever associate the nurse with disaster. He 
would hate the very sight of her. 

Silently she bade farewell to this whitewashed work- 
shop, so unfragrant, so lacking in those accessories 
commonly supposed to form part of love’s background. 
Like many a peri before her, she never appreciated her 
paradise, or recognised it as such, till she was about 
to leave it. 

From the speaking tube came a faint whistle. She 
ran into the library and put it to her ear. 

“ Send up a tincture of digitalis.” 

Napier kept certain drugs in a mahogany cabinet in 
the laboratory. It opened like a safe, and Esther knew 
the combination. But, she had some difficulty in finding 
the digitalis. Napier was untidy, and, when in a hurry, 
careless of replacing things. Almost the first object 
she beheld was the famous alkaloid, Talin, so identified 
in her mind with their joint labours. Napier, she 
remembered, had accorded the tiny phial the place of 
honour in the centre of the cabinet. And it had not 
been touched since then because he would not use it, 
or permit its use by others, until he discovered the 
equally subtile reagent which w r ould reveal its pres- 
ence in the human system. 

For an instant, she stared at the colourless, odour- 
less fluid. Then she searched for the digitalis and 
found it. A few minutes had passed before she handed 


THE PALADIN 


339 


the tincture to Buckle with instructions to take it up- 
stairs immediately. 

She went back to the open cabinet. The sight of 
the Talin allured her. Years ago she had said with a 
gay laugh that she would throw herself into the Thames 
rather than submit to the drudgery of earning a few 
pounds a year as companion to Mrs. Rockingham 
Trigg’s aged aunt. More than once, since then, she 
had thought of the river as a sanctuary for a girl too 
hardly pressed; and always, with a shudder of terror 
she had remembered that it takes three minutes to 
drown. 

She stared at the Talin. 

So her father had looked at the weapon in his desk. 
And the same deadly weariness which had assailed 
Douglas Yorke now fastened itself upon his daughter. 
Life terrified her. While she stood there, trembling, 
a mist seemed to obscure her faculties. Lost in a 
wilderness, with nothing to remind her of the past but 
a mirage growing faint upon a distant horizon, she 
forgot her own name, where she was, what she had 
been. Was madness coming once more upon her? 
Knowing that Napier might return at any minute, she 
stretched out her hand and clutched the phial of Talin, 
hiding it in her bosom. This act was almost uncon- 
scious, but the mere movement, the grip of a concrete 
object, restored her quivering mind to its balance. 
Hastily she closed the cabinet and went back to work. 

Presently, Napier came in. 

“ She has not spoken? ” 

“ No.” 


340 


THE PALADIN 


His reluctance to discuss the case, contrasted with 
his former confidence, became the measure of the gulf 
now steadily widening between them. He glanced at 
the long deal table. 

“ You have worked hard? ” 

“Yes” 

“ You spoke of your friend, Miss Jagg. Go and 
see her! It will do you good. It’s cold but fine. I 
insist ! ” 

Trying to read him, she wondered whether this was 
a hint that on the morrow she must expect dismissal. 
Too tired to question his authority she obeyed list- 
lessly. She would like to see Miranda once more. 

Outside, there was a nip of frost in the air, the 
feeling as if snow were coming. From some of the 
big establishments in Oxford Street shop girls were 
streaming out for the midday meal, chattering and 
laughing, chaffing each other, somewhat to the disap- 
proval of the tall, stiff, frock-coated young men, who 
prided themselves upon deportment. Only the very 
young girls laughed ; the elder women walked sedately, 
glancing neither to right nor left, intent upon their 
own thoughts which, like their faces, were evidently of 
a dull complexion. Close to the edge of the pavement, 
marched a file of sandwichmen carrying upon their bent 
backs an enormous letter, part of the name of a popu- 
lar farce. The dismal procession moved slowly along; 
purple letters flared out of yellow boards. The im- 
perial colours arrested Esther’s eyes, challenging con- 
trast with the pinched faces of the men, their hardly 
decent rags, their boots worn out by endless trampings. 
And these poor waifs, the derelicts of the streets, were 


THE PALADIN 


841 ' 


sent forth to proclaim — what? Failure and disaster? 
No. Success ! They invited no pity for themselves. 
But all foot-passengers were reminded that the most 
screaming farce of the decade was still running, al- 
though sandwichmen might crawl. 

Esther saw that colour blazed everywhere except 
upon the cheeks of the men and women. The motor 
’buses roared by : dazzling streaks of red and blue and 
green. The flags of England and America floated 
above the towering buildings. The Stars and Stripes ! 
How significant a symbol of a huge nation of workers. 
Above, the sun shone dimly out of a sky of palest 
azure fading into opalescent haze. It diffused prim- 
rose light, distinctively autumnal, bringing to mind the 
ardours of summer while suggesting the coming rigours 
of winter. 

Crossing Oxford Street, Esther narrowly escaped be- 
ing run over by a splendid six-cylinder Napier, which, 
grazing her gown, rushed onward, purring contentedly. 
This soft purr, almost bestial in its inhuman self-satis- 
faction, vibrated through Esther’s brain : the gloating, 
enraptured, discreetly modulated note of a triumphant 
civilisation which adored things at the expense of per- 
sons. “Get out of my way, or perish!” it seemed 
to say. 

Esther had not seen Miranda for a few days. And 
at the top of the stairs she found a notice setting 
forth Miss Jagg’s inability to receive her pupils. Then 
Miranda must be ill, in bed. Esther ascended the 
second flight of stairs and tapped at the door of Mi- 
randa’s bedroom. 

“ Come in ! ” 


342 


THE PALADIN 


Her old friend was alone. 

Esther’s trained eye at once perceived the absence 
of those innumerable little ministrations which make 
so much difference to the comfort of bedridden per- 
sons. No doubt the typewriting young lady did her 
best, a thin layer of attentions sandwiched between 
long hours of work. 

“ Rheumatism? ” said Esther. 

“Yes,” said Miranda shortly. 

Esther gazed at her in stupefaction. The poor old 
woman’s face was seared with pain, and at last age 
seemed to have gripped her relentlessly, strangling 
vitality and joyousness. At Esther’s expression she 
tried to smile, tried dismally and failed. And when 
she spoke her soft kind voice had hardened. 

“I’ve had four days, and four nights — ah! — those 
nights ! — of bad pain.” 

“Why didn’t you send for me?” 

“ You were busy. And I detest hard-luck stories, 
and whiners and wailers. I’ve been whining and wail- 
ing. Yes — I have. And it never does any good, 
does it ? ” 

She looked so fierce that Esther hardly dared to 
kiss her. 

“ The Academy will go to pot,” she added grimly. 
“ The doctor says that this means weeks upon my 
back.” 

“ I can come to you to-morrow,” said Esther. 

She had forgotten everything save the one tremen- 
dous fact that a friend needed her. And for the hun- 
dredth time, pity and sympathy for others touched with 


THE PALADIN US 

gentle, healing fingers her own bruised and lacerated 
tissues. 

“ I forbid you to come,” said Miranda. Then she 
burst out with a dramatic intensity which revealed all 
that she had valiantly suppressed during five and 
twenty years : 44 It’s the beginning of the end, and 

the sooner the end comes the better. If I could hasten 
it, if ” 

44 No, no ! ” cried Esther. 

44 1 say yes. Life is too hard for women who fight 
for their own hand. We fight against Nature, who 
never forgives, never! I have lain here alone thinking 
of Sabrina, and myself, and others, who have fought 
gamely to the last gasp. But they’ve had to turn their 
faces to the wall. We were intended to be protected 
and loved when we get old and feeble, and to die, when 
our time comes, with children about us. Before it is 
too late, Esther, see to it that you have children, as 
I might have had if I’d not been a fool. Make this 
doctor marry you. Make him, I say ! Use your 
weapons before they rust. I tell you I’ve thought ib 
out to the everlasting rattle of those typewriting ma- 
chines downstairs. What do those girls earn? Hardly 
enough to keep body and soul together. Can they save 
a farthing? No. And they’re giving to their ma- 
chines what should be given to their husbands and 
children.” 

44 We can’t all marry,” said Esther feebly, over- 
whelmed by the passion in her friend’s voice. 

44 1 know that. We outnumber the men ; but I’m not 
such a fool as to be talking of those who can’t marry, 


THE PALADIN 


344 

but of those who can, of women like yourself and that 
kind, pretty little simpleton who sleeps here, and who 
prides herself, as you did and do, upon earning her 
own living. And in ten years her chance will be gone 
for ever. I told her so this morning.” 

“ Where is your brother? ” 

“ In America. You are not to go to Laura, do you 
understand? ” 

“ If I did go, I should want to throw vitriol at her.” 

“ It’s not money I want. I’ve enough to see me 
through without charity. The pupils talk of a benefit. 
I won’t have it, if I never earn another penny.” 

“ I shall come to-morrow,” said Esther. 

“ Throw up your job? Pish!” 

“ It’s thrown me up.” 

“What do you say?” 

Esther hesitated. Pride constrained her to silence, 
instinct told her that the recital of her suffering would 
assuage Miranda’s pangs. Instinct conquered pride. 
She told her story simply, almost impassively, with an 
indifference which concealed nothing. 

“You poor child!” 

“ It will do me good to look after you.” 

And then during a long silence each woman, driven 
from all consideration of self, thought absorbedly of 
the other. But Esther had kept back one incident. 
Miranda did not know what lay upon her friend’s 
breast, the tiny phial which held swift and painless 
oblivion. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


DE PROFUNDIS 

As soon as Esther returned to Harley Street, Buckle 
told her that Napier wished to see her in the library. 
She obeyed in trepidation, convinced that Alice must 
have spoken, although she had learned from the butler 
that no marked change had taken place. To her 
amazement, Napier said awkwardly, “ I treated you 
with rudeness this morning. Please forgive me. I 
was and am still horribly worried. Lord Camber is 
keeping something back. His story, on the face of it, 
is flimsy, quite inadequate to account for this relapse. 
But from beginning to end you have behaved splen- 
didly. And I let you go without even a word of 
thanks. I am so sorry.” 

“ Anyone could see how worried you were.” 

“You don’t think I hold you responsible for what 
has happened?” 

His tone, rather than the words, upset her. And 
his glance kindly, trustful, sympathetic, brought a 
flicker of colour to her cheeks. 

“ I didn’t know. I — I thought from your man- 
ner ” 

“ My manner, when I’m on edge, is detestable. I be- 
have like a machine. Well, you have turned me from 
a machine into a man. My work used to be everything. 
Now something infinitely better has taken its place.” 

345 


346 


THE PALADIN 


She stared at him, realising what was coming, and 
knowing, too, how it had come about, the swift pre- 
cipitation of love being held in solution and now in- 
destructibly solid. 

“ When you went away three hours ago, I knew that 
you had misunderstood me and my feelings for you. 
Are you ill, Miss Yorke?” 

“ I feel rather dizzy,” Esther confessed. 

He fetched a chair. 

“ I’ve been too hasty,” he said, as she sank into it. 
“ I feel a clown, but I had to let you have a glimpse 
of my heart.” 

He waited anxiously for a word of encouragement, 
while Esther was tom in two between her pledge to 
Harry and her desire to fling herself into the arms 
outstretched towards her. Struggling against oppos- 
ing currents, she clutched at the straw of procrastina- 
tion, divining that he would wait patiently. 

“ Please say nothing more now,” she faltered. 

It was impossible to let him speak, without telling 
him in return the story of her life, and this, in truth, 
she was physically incapable of doing. His unshaken 
confidence had shaken her. Perhaps, the one overmas- 
tering emotion was the desire to replace the phial of 
Talin, and the sense that in taking it she had held 
not only herself but this man too cheap. Then she 
heard Napier speaking with professional incisiveness. 

“ You are still in my employment, and I shall in- 
sist upon obedience. Go to your room, and straight 
to bed! I’ll see that a proper dinner is sent up.” 

“ I’d sooner stop in the laboratory.” 


THE PALADIN 


347 


“ In the laboratory ? Why ? ” 

“ There was plenty to do when I left.” 

“ I’ve been at work there. All is in apple pie or- 
der. Off you go ! ” 

“ If I may stay here and read ? ” 

“ Take any book you like, and read it in bed. You 
are worn out.” 

Very slowly she moved towards the door, reflecting 
how great the odds were against his discovering that 
one phial out of a hundred was missing. On the mor- 
row she would replace it. As she reached the door 
she turned. 

“ Is Lady Camber easier? ” 

“ There is no change.” 

“ If I can do anything ? ” 

“You can go to bed. Good-night.” 

“ Good-night.” 

When she had gone he sat down at his desk, half- 
smiling, half-frowning, a prey to bitter-sweet reflec- 
tions, from which he was aroused by Buckle. 

“ Mrs. Peach wishes to see you, sir.” 

“ Bother Mrs. Peach ! ” 

The old servant smiled discreetly. 

“ She asked me to add, sir, that it was on a matter 
of importance.” 

“ Show her in.” 

Peach came in a minute later, exhibiting a tearstained 
face and much discomposure, perceptibly increased by 
the coldly critical stare with which Napier greeted her. 

“ Well? ” He rapped out the curt monosyllable, an- 
ticipating an impassioned and tearful request to be 


348 


THE PALADIN 


allowed to wait on her mistress. Peach stood in front 
of the desk, with the light from the lamp full upon her 
agitated countenance. 

“ Beg pardon, sir, but I should mention that jealousy 
has always been my besetting sin.” 

“ Go on ! ” 

“ It’s on my mind and conscience that I’m partly, 
only partly, the cause of this trouble.” 

“ Please get to the point.” 

His manner dried the old woman’s tears. With 
savage malice she said meaningly: 

“ Nurse Yorke has just been ’ere.” 

« Yes.” 

“ Didn’t say nothink, did she, about this morning? ” 
As Napier repudiated the question with an impatient 
gesture, she continued with increased acrimony : “ When 
this Nurse Yorke came between me and my lady, I 
saw that she was an ’ussy at once.” 

“ Be very careful ! ” 

She’s an ’ussy, a wrong ’un ! She’s been carrying 
on shameful with my lord, and so, this morning, be- 
lievin’ my lady to be quite herself again, I gave her, 
so to speak, a gentle ’int.” 

In her excitement the h’s began to fall freely. 

“A gentle hint? What did you say? ” 

“ I told my lady that my lord was meeting this 
young woman on the sly.” 

“You dared to tell that lie?” 

“ Oh, ho ! Lie, is it ? ” 

“ Nurse Yorke is incapable of meeting Lord Camber, 
or anybody else, on the sly.” 


THE PALADIN 


349 


“ Reely ! Suppose I told you that this very morn- 
ing as ever was my lord tried to bribe me, and thought 
he’d succeeded, too.” 

She chuckled maliciously, glaring at Napier out of 
her small, closely set eyes. 

“Tried to bribe you? Impossible.” 

“ Do you think he offered me a quid? My lord 
offered me a pension.” 

“ A pension ? ” 

Napier leaned forward, distrusting his ears, but 
not his eyes. Peach’s face was illumined by an unmis- 
takable sincerity. 

“ Yes — a pension. And — and — it was just about 
too much for me. I’m getting old, and I’ve nothink 
laid by. See! And if my lady died, where would I 
be? In the porehouse — eh? So I’ve said nothink all 
day, but I carn’t go to bed with this on my chest.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said Napier gravely. “ All 
the same, you are mistaken about Nurse Yorke. Lord 
Camber may have paid her some attention. She’s an 
attractive young lady. But how do you know that 
his attentions were not repulsed? ” 

“ ’Ow old do yer think I am? I’m nearly sixty, and 
I’ve lived my life in London, wickedest city in the 
world.” 

“ Come, come, this is not evidence.” 

“ I saw ’er slink out to meet him at seven at night 
under the Bentinck statoo in Cavendish Square. My 
lord had a four-wheeler waiting. I saw ’em drive off 
together ; and I saw ’er come back at ten. That’s what 
I saw with my own eyes a week ago, and not a word 


350 


THE PALADIN 


did I breathe to a soul till I told my lady this morn- 
ing. And then ” 

“ And then ? ” 

“ She went wild. And she wanted to ’ave it out 
there and then. So she telephoned to my lord in Nurse 
Yorke’s name. Rare mimic she is ! And what he said 
at the other end just finished her.” 

“ And how do you know what he said? ” 

“ My lady, pore dear, repeated ’is words out loud. 
I’d told ’er that they was correspondin’, and that I’d 
seen a letter from my lord to Nurse Yorke lying on 
the ’all table. My lady asked my lord about that let- 
ter. And then ’e said, for she repeated it, out loud: 
* What’s your answer ’? And my lady said she couldn’t 
give it, not through a telephone ; and then my lord 
answered that he wouldn’t have written the letter un- 
less he’d known what the answer was a-going to be. 
And then he wound up by callin’ her ’is darling, and 
beggin’ for a kiss.” 

Napier sat staring at her. With an effort, he said 
slowly : 

“ If it were a practical joke? If Lord Camber 
guessed that his wife was playing a trick on him, and 
played a trick on her? ” 

But, as he put the question, he knew the fatuity 
of it. 

“A joke?” Peach repeated the word derisively. 
“ And what about the meetin’ ? What about the let- 
ter? What about tryin’ to bribe me? I’ve lost a quid 
a week for the rest of my life, but I’ll have my sleep 
at nights.” 


THE PALADIN 


351 


“ I’m sorry I spoke harshly to you. Will you leave 
this in my hands ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Thank you. You can go now.” 

“ I’ve this much more to say. It’s my belief them 
two have been thick as thieves before.” 

She went out, leaving Napier confounded by her 
last words and what they signified. Camber and Esther 
had met before. Then, very slowly and carefully, he 
began to go back, to recall what he knew of Esther. He 
remembered the first meeting in Piccadilly Circus, the 
piteous expression of her face, his surprise at finding 
such a girl in such a place at such a time, a surprise 
inordinately increased when he discovered where she 
lived. 

And Camber? Sir Bedford had nothing but good to 
say of Camber. Once he had paid attention to a girl 
in Palace Gardens. 

Palace Gardens? 

That was the address given by Esther, when he 
helped her into a hansom. 

Napier groaned. If Camber had ever loved Esther, 
the affair took the form of a detestable conspiracy 
against his patient. He looked at his watch. It was 
time to see her. He hurried upstairs to find Alice 
slightly worse, the action of the heart being uneven. 

He administered another dose of digitalis, and re- 
turned to the library. His thoughts flew to Esther 
and the hours spent with her in the laboratory, when 
they had worked side by side. Inevitably his mind 
dwelt upon the isolation of Talin, and, as inevitably, 


352 


THE PALADIN 


it struck him that a great emergency would justify its 
use at this critical moment. In minute doses, it was 
likely to be a cardiac tonic of extraordinary virtue. 
Taken in excess, it would depress the heart’s action 
to a very dangerous extent. 

He went to the cabinet and opened it. The Talin 
was missing. 

At first this made no impression. Absent-minded 
about trifles, it was possible that he himself had moved 
the phial. He ransacked the cabinet. The drug was 
not there. 

Only one other person had access to the laboratory. 
Only Esther knew the combination of letters which 
opened the cabinet. Esther must have taken it. 

Why? 

Carefully closing the doors of cabinet and labora- 
tory, he sat down to think. Presently he rang the 
bell, and when Buckle came in, said in a voice from 
which all feeling had vanished: 

“ If Nurse Yorke has not gone to bed, I should 
like to see her.” 

He waited a few minutes. Esther, possibly, had 
taken the Talin for the purpose of resuming the ex- 
periments in search of a reagent. She might have left 
the phial in some drawer in the laboratory, a breach 
of discipline he would gladly condone. 

She came in quietly. 

“ You had not gone to bed? ” 

“ No, I couldn’t.” 

“ I sent for you,” he said, “ because I was thinking 
of trying an experiment. Risks must be run. Lady 


THE PALADIN 


353 


Camber’s condition becomes hourly more critical. Un- 
der the circumstances should I be justified in trying a 
minute dose of Talin ? ” 

He saw something in her eyes which he recognised 
as fear. But her voice was as quiet as his, when she 
repeated the last word. 

“ Talin? ” 

“Yes; Talin. Why not?” 

He paused, giving her the chance to speak, to ex- 
plain. Esther said nothing, the colour went out of 
her lips, the pupils of her eyes dilated. 

“ I shall go upstairs again. Will you stay here 
till I come back? ” 

“ Of course.” 

It seemed to him that relief positively shone out of 
her eyes. 

“ When I come back I shall decide definitely about 
the Talin. Meanwhile, if I want anything I’ll speak 
to you through the tube.” 

“ I’ll stay here till you come back.” 

Still looking at her, he made a last attempt to win 
her confidence. 

“ Is there anything on your mind ? What is it ? ” 

She did not withdraw her eyes from his, but in their 
depths he read a piteous supplication to forbear, to 
ask no further questions. 

“Let me share your trouble, whatever it is.” 

“You can’t, Mr. Napier.” 

“You have nothing to say?” 

With a hunted look she murmured: “Nothing.” 

He went quickly out. As the door closed she turned 


354 


THE PALADIN 


her head to listen for his retreating footsteps. Then, 
very swiftly, she opened the laboratory door, switched 
on the lights, and replaced the phial. When Napier 
returned, ten minutes afterwards, he found her read- 
ing. She rose to receive him. With a gesture he 
seemed to signify that the formal, official relation 
hitherto existing between doctor and nurse had now 
come to an end. 

“ How is she? ” 

He perceived that her manner was easier; and a 
grateful light seemed to diffuse her eyes. And, indeed, 
she was passionately grateful to Napier, whose unex- 
pected kindness had expanded into something she 
hardly dared to analyse or measure, and to Him, who 
had tempered the wind at the supreme moment when 
the storm distracted her poor wits to the darkness and 
chaos of despair. 

He answered, 66 No better, but I shall not try the 
Talin.” 

Her face expressed indifference. He continued, 
“ That is all. Will you promise me to go to bed? 99 

“ Yes . 99 

Alone, he hestitated for one moment. Then he 
opened the safe and saw the replaced phial. He came 
back into the library, holding it in his hand, staring 
at it with the same tense look of interrogation so ad- 
mirably rendered by the artist. He held it up to the 
light. He consulted a notebook. There ought to be 
two drachms and twenty-seven minims of the alkaloid. 
With feverish impatience he went back into the labora- 
tory and measured the fluid. His features relaxed as 


THE PALADIN 


355 


he made certain that the phial still contained the 
exact quantity entered in his notebook. But such evi- 
dence was inconclusive. A part of the alkaloid might 
have been taken and replaced with water. To deter- 
mine this accurately meant a qualitative analysis of 
very great delicacy, a task of several hours. He re- 
turned to the library and sat down. 

Why had she taken the Talin? 

Gropingly he stretched out towards some reasonable 
hypothesis. Evidently there had been love passages 
between Camber and her, broken off, no doubt, by the 
father’s death and dishonour. After that years of 
poverty and suffering writ large upon her face. And 
this writing was unmistakable, the record that never 
deceives him who has eyes to read and heart and mind 
to comprehend. It seemed plain that she must have 
loved Camber faithfully. Others, like himself, had de- 
sired to lift the burden of a self-imposed celibacy. But 
because she loved Camber these had been sent away. 
And Camber was just the man to inspire a passion 
of devotion. A sort of Bayard, as that ass Slufter 
had said. He compared the paladin’s magnificent body 
with his own insignificant appearance, but the consol- 
ing thought came, “ I should have married her, but he 
didn’t.” Naturally, he took for granted that the man 
had shrunk from marriage with Douglas Yorke’s 
daughter. In that, as we know, he did our Harry in- 
justice; but, essentially, he grasped the truth. In 
Harry’s place he would have married Esther, without 
marking time, and without any consideration for dear 
little Mumsies. 


356 


THE PALADIN 


Up to this point Napier had moved slowly and 
surely. The lovers had been driven apart by circum- 
stance; the maid remained a maid, the man married 
a pretty, clever mimic, who — admittedly — had been un- 
able to play the part of great lady. Then, in this very 
room, after many years, the lovers had met again. 
And Esther had consented to nurse the woman who 
had supplanted her. 

The lines deepened upon Napier’s forehead. As a 
psychologist, he told himself that it was difficult to 
reconcile his knowledge of Esther’s character and tem- 
perament with Esther’s conduct. He recalled the scene 
between himself and her. After the first meeting with 
Camber she had withdrawn from her engagement to 
nurse the wife. And then, at his solicitation, against 
her own judgment, she had undertaken the task. 

Why had she not told the truth? Why had she 
not divined the risk to her patient, if the truth had 
become known later? 

He went a step further. The nursing had been 
done admirably, with a tact and patience which sur- 
passed expectation. And then husband and maid ap- 
peared, and from that moment the exquisite stitching 
had been unpicked. 

He considered the secret meeting, the letter, and the 
discovery by Lady Camber of both. Lastly, that black 
attempt to bribe Peach. If Lady Camber died without 
regaining consciousness, and if Peach had held her 
tongue, the secret history of the past twenty-four hours 
would have remained secret for ever. But Peach had 
spoken, and speech meant the loss of so much that 


THE PALADIN 357 

none could question the essential truth of her 
story. 

If Lady Camber lived, Esther’s reputation was at 
the mercy of a jealous woman. If she died, Camber 
could marry Esther and give her everything a woman 
holds dear. 

Suspending judgment, he presented the case as it 
might be presented to a jury, and the deduction hor- 
rified him. He recalled Camber’s face in the glass 
opposite, when he was assured that his wife would live, 
and the same expression seen upon Esther’s face only 
a few hours later. The husband had hoped that death 
would remove the only barrier between himself and the 
woman he loved. And, with the realisation that his 
wife was likely to live, he had plunged into an intrigue 
with Esther, and — possibly — dragged her into it. 
Whether or not that intrigue was innocent, the conse- 
quence had been disastrous to his patient. 

Why had Esther taken the Talin? Only two rea- 
sons remained adequate. Driven to despair by conse- 
quences which she might or might not have been cul- 
pable in bringing about, Esther had seen in this un- 
known, untraceable drug a swift and sure means of 
escape from a life no longer worth living. 

Or — the other reason remained — to be dismissed with 
a shudder of execration. 

He considered the first reason. Having taken the 
Talin, why did she not use it? What had stayed her 
hand? She must have seized opportunity by the skirts 
when he left her alone in the laboratory. Had she 
subtracted a small quantity, replacing it with water? 


358 


THE PALADIN 


At this moment, alone, she might — appalling thought — 
be about to take the awful leap! 

He rose, to pace the room with long, unsteady 
strides. He could not go to her. And if he did, what 
could he say? 

He might write a line, a few words. He did so, 
without further thought or speculation, taking them 
hot from his heart: 

I want you to know that I trust you. You are in great dis- 
tress, and physically weak as well. But I am your friend through 
thick and thin. Believe that! Your weakness is the inevitable 
result of a too generous service. To all hard workers come 
black moments, and that is the time to think of the light, the 
Light which burns eternally, whether we see it or not. 

He went upstairs ; he tapped upon Esther’s door, 
and experienced an overwhelming sense of relief when 
he heard her voice upon the other side, saying quietly, 
“ Who is it? ” He answered, “ It is I, Napier; I 
have a note for you.” 

The door opened a few inches and her hand ap- 
peared. Napier slipped the note into her hand, and 
then, with an uncontrollable impulse, held the hand 
and kissed it. This kiss was the pledge and seal of 
his belief in her. He heard a soft whisper as the 
hand vanished: 

“ Thank you for that.” 

He hastened from one woman to the other, and he 
could not have done this had not his belief in Esther’s 
innocence been fundamental. For one instant he had 
suspected her of an execrable crime. 


THE PALADIN 


359 


For one instant — no longer. And he felt a cur, 
when he thought of it. Probably she loved Camber, 
and, for his sake, at his irresistible solicitation, had 
consented to see him secretly. Camber, not she, was 
responsible for the mischief that had been wrought. 
And she, unable to betray the man she loved, had con- 
templated self-destruction. He knew that he was star- 
ing into thickest fog, and when he kissed Esther’s 
hand he knew also that the fog would lift, and that 
he would see clearly this dear woman as she was — 
tender, kind, unselfish, and the stronger inasmuch as 
she had fought against her own weakness and had 
prevailed. 

As he entered Lady Camber’s room the night nurse 
held a finger to her lips. She whispered that her pa- 
tient was quieter. Napier approached the bed. The 
light was dim, but quite strong enough to reveal to his 
more experienced eye the true nature of this apparent 
improvement. He laid his finger upon the wrist, and 
then turned back the eyelid. 

“ She is sinking,” he said half an hour later, after 
a long and fruitless attempt to stimulate the action of 
the heart. “ Go downstairs and tell Buckle to fetch 
Lord Camber. Let nobody else in the house be dis- 
turbed. I will stay here.” 

He sat down, cheek upon hand, steadfastly regard- 
ing the pretty face upon the pillow, watching the ebb 
of the life he had desired so ardently to save. Many 
lives had thus evaded him, slipping through the fin- 
gers which had closed firmly about them. And nearly 
always he had been sensible of an intolerable revolt, 


360 


THE PALADIN 


of a crushing realisation of human impotence. No 
such emotion stirred him now, only a profound pity. 
He saw her as she was, when her grace and beauty 
first began to captivate the town. What a delightful 
vision of youth and mirth and vitality! Euphrosyne 
incarnate ! 

And now she lay dying, because a paladin, sworn 
to cherish her, had broken his troth. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


AN IDEAL 

For the last time we behold Sir Bedford Slufter as- 
cending the steps of Napier’s house. Upon his large, 
cleanly-shaved pink face we observe a decorous expres- 
sion of resignation to the Divine will tempered by hu- 
man sympathy and regret, and faintly illuminated, 
possibly, by the reflection that men might come and 
go, but fees remained. Buckle, who had enormous re- 
spect for the illustrious visitor, ushered him into the 
library. 

“ I’ll tell Mr. Napier you are here, Sir Bedford.” 

Sir Bedford pulled a dark grey glove from his right 
hand. 

“ Buckle ” 

“ 1 beg pardon, Sir Bedford ! ” 

“I am very much upset, my old friend, ve-ry much 
upset.” 

“ We were all upset, Sir Bedford. My master, sir, 
looks ten years older this morning.” 

Sir Bedford sat down, and adjusted his gold pince- 
nez. When he spoke his voice had a rich, mellow 
tone, which somehow suggested to the bereaved that 
life, despite its sorrows and sufferings, was well worth 
the living. 

“ I have not felt so upset, Buckle, since that black 
Monday when my patient, the Hereditary Grand 
361 


362 


THE PALADIN 


Duchess of Blutemburg-Dankerstein, expired at the 
very moment when I was offering her my congratula- 
tions upon the improvement in her condition.” 

Buckle replied with extreme deference: 

“Man and boy, sir, I’ve worked for fifty years 
within a hundred yards of Harley Street. It’s not 
death upsets us, Sir Bedford. We see too much of 
that. It’s — it’s the unexpected.” 

“ A very apposite remark.” 

Buckle bowed. And his voice had acquired some- 
thing of the ripe richness of Sir Bedford’s when he 
asked solemnly: 

“ Can I get you a glass of sherry, Sir Bedford? ” 

« No, no.” 

“It’s the King’s sherry, sir.” 

“ Indeed? A fine wine, a ve-ry fine wine, but — 
no, no, not at ten in the morning! Tell your mas- 
ter I should like to have a word with him as reasonably 
soon as possible.” 

“ Very good, Sir Bedford. I shall take the liberty 
of placing the sherry in the hall, Sir Bedford.” 

He went out, leaving the eminent physician to his 
own reflections, which soared into kings’ palaces and 
thence descended through butlers’ pantries into snug 
cellars where aged and royal wines awaited their ap- 
pointed and glorious destiny. 

“ Bless my soul, you startled me.” 

Napier had entered. He looked very pale and thin, 
in striking contrast to the rubicund rotundity of his 
visitor. Sir Bedford, after the usual greeting, said 
soothingly : 


THE PALADIN 


363 


“ Come, come, my dear Napier, I must protest 
against your taking this blow so hard. You look as 
if you’d not slept a wink.” 

44 1 have been up all night.” 

44 No man could have done more.” 

44 My worries are not what you think. I’m con- 
cerned with the living more than the dead.” 

44 Well, well, I shall make it my affair, Napier, that 
the world hears that this was not quite unexpected by 
— us.” 

44 You are very kind.” He spoke curtly, in a tone 
which caused Sir Bedford to open his slightly promi- 
nent eyes even wider than usual. 46 The truth is, the 
less the world hears of this case the better.” 

44 Eh— what? ” 

Buckle came in. 

44 Lord Camber is here.” 

Sir Bedford murmured: 44 Shall I see him?” 

Napier turned to Buckle. 

44 1 will receive his lordship in a few minutes. By 
the way, I am expecting a memorandum from the So- 
ciety of Clinical Research. Bring it in the moment 
it arrives.” 

As soon as the servant had gone, Sir Bedford said 
with agitation : 44 What did you mean, my dear 
Napier, by your most extraordinary remark just 
now?” 

44 Simply this : between ourselves, my unhappy pa- 
tient has been done to death.” 

44 Done to death? Good heavens!” 

44 By a man whom you and the rest of the world 


364 


THE PALADIN 


regard as a sort of Bayard. I’m quite sure he thinks 
himself a Bayard.” 

“ Done to death ! What an expression ! ” 

“ I don’t pick my words. Lord Camber is respon- 
sible for his wife’s death.” 

“ My dear Napier, my dear fellow, forgive me. I 
can make due allowance for your great disappoint- 
ment, but ‘ done to death ’ is libellous. Frankly, you 
are morbid. I do not pretend to misunderstand you. 
You demanded from Camber what he was unable to 
supply: that passionate love which seldom survives the 
honeymoon of — of a mesalliance. Strictly entre nous, 
I admit, with reluctance, that this particular marriage 
was a disaster, which has ended — as I anticipated — 
with death. I state my profound conviction that the 
fittest has survived.” 

“ If I were sure of that ! ” 

Sir Bedford held out his plump hand. 

“ 1 must be off, unless I can be of service. Banish 
morbid misgivings. And I entreat you as a friend to 
consider your own health. I have always done so, with 
the gratifying consciousness of being thereby the bet- 
ter able to minister to others.” 

“You are very kind.” 

“ You are, I am told, almost a teetotaller. At such 
a time as this, a little stimulant, a glass of sound wine. 
Yes, yes, you take me. Good-bye, good-bye.” 

He bustled away, pursing up his too full lips and 
frowning. This young Napier was undeniably clever, 
but lacking in common-sense, and, assuredly, most in- 
discreet. Done to death ! What an expression! Not 


THE PALADIN 365 

even his Majesty’s sherry could take the taste of that 
out of his mouth. 

As Sir Bedford sank back upon the cushions of his 
brougham, Napier was saying to Buckle: 

“ Go to Miss Yorke’s room, and ask her to come 
here. When I ring twice — twice, you understand? — 
show Lord Camber in.” 

As Buckle disappeared, Napier went to the labora- 
tory door and unlocked it. He glanced at the cabinet, 
hesitating. Then he altered the combination of the 
lock, and returned to his desk a few moments before 
Esther entered. They had met already, but in the 
presence of others. Esther, thanks to Napier’s pre- 
cautions, had not learned the news of Lady Camber’s 
death till the morning. She appeared pale but com- 
posed. 

“ Did you sleep ? ” he asked. 

“Yes — very soundly.” 

“ That is well. Please sit down.” 

“ Not till I have thanked you from the bottom of 
my heart for your letter. Oh ! your consideration, your 

kindness ! And your trust in me ” She spoke 

brokenly. He made a warning gesture, but she con- 
tinued: “You guessed that I was withholding some- 
thing, something you ought to know. Mr. Napier, I 
was pledged to silence. I — I couldn’t speak. But this 
death releases me. And now, I can speak.” 

“ Not yet. Miss Yorke, are you strong enough to 
stand an ordeal?” 

“An ordeal?” 

“ I can use no other word. If I could spare you I 


366 


THE PALADIN 


would. If I could listen to your story first, how 
gladly I would do so! But I have a duty to perform, 
and it must be done regardless of my own feelings and 
regardless of yours.” 

“ I have been very weak, but my strength has come 
back.” 

“ It is necessary that I should put some questions 
to Lord Camber. As those questions concern you, they 
should be asked and answered in your presence.” 

She remained silent for an instant, then she said 
nervously : “ I can’t meet Lord Camber this morning. 
I— can’t.” 

“ But if I assure you, as your friend, that it is nec- 
essary, that you must meet him, what then? ” 

“I am in your hands.” 

He rang the bell twice. 

Harry entered. It would be doing him injustice to 
affirm that of the three persons present he was the 
least distressed, but he bore himself from long habit 
with distinction. Summoned in the middle of the pre- 
vious night, he had arrived greatly agitated, and after 
a short interview with Napier had returned to his own 
house knowing nothing except the bare fact that his 
wife had died without recovering consciousness. This 
one thought dried a few tears. A fearful scandal had 
been smothered. He did not sleep, obsessed by this 
tremendous conviction, which gradually became as 
poppy and mandragora, soothing deliciously fears and 
misgivings. Let us add that he thought very tenderly 
of poor Alice, and had achieved already a sense of 
detachment in regard to her which can only be de- 


THE PALADIN 


367 


scribed as prodigious. His manner in greeting Esther 
and Napier was the pink of perfection. We must re- 
gret that Sir Bedford, so fine a judge, was not present. 
Harry’s grave concern at Napier’s pallid and worn 
appearance provoked a curt sentence. 

44 I’ve been at work, away from home, all night.” 

He indicated a chair, which Camber took. Esther 
sat near the paladin, her hands crossed upon her lap ; 
her eyes upon the carpet. Camber glanced at her, try- 
ing to challenge attention, slightly disconcerted be- 
cause she refused to look at him, and because Napier 
seemed so confoundedly preoccupied and impassive. 
Feeling that the ice must be broken, he took the first 
plunge. 

44 1 blame myself terribly for what happened yester- 
day. I shall never forgive myself. I — I As you 

see, I can’t talk about it.” 

44 1 must,” said Napier. 44 The change for the worse 
in my patient began after your first visit, and day 
after day it became more acute. You promised to co- 
operate cordially with me, but you didn’t.” 

The face that our paladin raised to meet Napier’s 
glance was ingenuously open and candid. He per- 
ceived that the moment was ripe for a manly, straight- 
forward presentation of a truth too long con- 
cealed. 

44 1 promised more than I could perform,” he replied 
with dignity. 44 1 have not the effrontery to play the 
hypocrite. If my poor wife had lived, a separation 
would have been inevitable.” 

44 You let her understand that?” 


368 


THE PALADIN 


44 Heavens ! What sort of a brute do you take me 
for? I did my best, but I’m no actor.” 

44 You acted yesterday.” 

44 What do you mean? ” 

44 And you are acting — now.” 

44 This is going too far ” 

44 1 am going as far as possible. You acted yes- 
terday, and you are acting now, but your words and 
actions never imposed on me.” 

44 You dare ” 

44 1 know everything.” 

Our paladin turned a hunted glance upon Esther, 
silent and pale, staring at the pattern of the carpet. 

44 What have you told him?” he stammered. 

44 Miss Yorke has told me nothing. Peach came to 
me last night. You attempted to bribe her, Lord 
Camber.” 

44 1 did,” he answered, not without spirit. 44 My wife, 
with that woman eavesdropping, had brought a mon- 
strous charge against Miss Yorke.” 

44 Monstrous ? ” 

44 Yes — monstrous. You can guess what was said 
by an intensely jealous woman in a moment of ungov- 
ernable passion.” 

44 1 can believe that such a charge was monstrous, 
but had you not seriously compromised Miss Yorke? ” 

44 How? ” 

44 By meeting her secretly. Peach saw you in Cav- 
endish Square and told her mistress.” 

44 Oh ! ” said Esther, in an agonised tone, 44 that is 
what killed her.” 


THE PALADIN 369 

66 No,” Napier replied, 66 that is not what killed 
her.” 

“ I asked for the interview,” said Esther miserably. 
“ It was my doing, not his.” 

“ You must have had a strong reason?” 

“ I had.” 

Napier looked at Harry, flushed by the shock of 
Napier’s words, but, on account of them, doubly anx- 
ious to rehabilitate himself. He expanded his chest, 
lifted his head, and spoke in the sonorous voice which 
had earned him reputation as an after-dinner orator. 
The defence of an innocent woman aroused all that was 
best in him. 

“ It is awful, terrible, that my poor wife should have 
heard of this meeting, but Miss Yorke and I are very 
old friends. If I have compromised her, I am ready 
to make amends. There was a time when I hoped she 
would become my wife. I am not ashamed to confess 
that she is and always has been the one woman in the 
world to me. This is not the moment to dwell on that ; 
but you have forced me to this confession. Miss 
Yorke’s reason for wishing to see me in private does 
not concern you, although I admit that our being 
spied upon by a malicious and unscrupulous woman has 
had most lamentable results.” 

“ The results are what concern me,” said Napier. 
“ Did you take advantage of this interview to make 
it plain to Miss Yorke that your old friendship could 
not be renewed ? ” 

“ No,” Harry replied sullenly. 

“ Am I right in supposing that Lady Camber knew 


370 THE PALADIN 

nothing of previous love passages between you and 
her nurse ? ” 

“ On account of her jealous disposition I did not 
mention them to her.” 

Napier turned to Esther, and his voice softened as 
he said: “ I am quite sure that you saw the propriety 
of not renewing a friendship which might cause pain to 
your patient?” 

“ I did,” said Esther, almost inaudibly. 

“ I do not press for an answer, but possibly that 
was the strong reason that animated you in asking for 
this interview? ” 

“ Yes — it was.” 

“ Thank you. But you, Lord Camber, refused to 
accept as final Miss Yorke’s request?” 

“ I didn’t want to lose a friend. I protest against 
this absurd inquisition. It is unnecessary and most 
painful to Miss Yorke. However bitterly one may re- 
gret what happened yesterday, it is impossible to shirk 
the conclusion that — er ” 

“Things have turned out for the best, eh?.” 

“ You put it with a singular lack of delicacy, but 
my unfortunate wife’s death has ended a deal of 
trouble.” 

Napier’s voice was very grim, as he replied: “ The 
trouble is not ended, Lord Camber.” 

“ What do you mean, sir? ” 

Napier picked up a piece of paper lying upon his 
desk. “ This is a death certificate, which I have not 
signed yet.” 

The flush upon Harry’s face deepened. Was this 


THE PALADIN 


371 


man mad, as well as grossly impertinent? He felt the 
blood throbbing in his temples, as Napier continued: 
6i Facts have come to my notice which many men in 
my position would deem it their duty to make public.” 

Harry broke in furiously : 44 What damned ” 

44 Silence! ” Napier’s voice electrified both man and 
woman. Esther put her hands to her face, appre- 
hending that worse was to follow; Harry, for a pal- 
adin, looked extremely foolish. In his former tone, 
Napier continued: 44 Pray give me credit for wishing 
to avoid publicity as much as you do.” 

44 1 beg your pardon,” said Harry. 

As he spoke, Buckle entered with an envelope upon 
a salver, presented it to Napier, and retired. Napier 
laid it upon his desk, beside the certificate. Before he 
spoke again, he picked up a pen and began to twist 
it in his fingers, a trick familiar enough to Esther, 
and one indicating nervous strain. 

44 Because I wish to avoid publicity, Lord Camber, 
I am holding a private enquiry here and now. Yes- 
terday, when I informed you of Lady Camber’s critical 
condition, both you and Miss Yorke were aware that 
my patient had not spoken since her seizure.” 

44 Well, sir?” 

44 You will admit that if Lady Camber was unable to 
give her version of what you had described as a little 
joke, and if Peach held her tongue, as you might rea- 
sonably believe she would, why, then, Miss Yorke and 
you would be relieved of any apprehension of a scan- 
dal. Bear that in mind! Now — have you ever heard 
of Talin? ” 


372 


THE PALADIN 


u Never.” 

Napier smiled faintly. Scientific England had ac- 
claimed his discovery. 

“ It is a vegetable alkaloid which I isolated with 
Miss Yorke’s assistance. Please give me your atten- 
tion, Lord Camber.” 

But our paladin’s eyes were fixed upon Esther’s 
face. At the sudden mention of Talin, her quick wits 
jumped to the truth. Napier knew that she had taken 
the drug and replaced it. The shock was so great that 
she was seized with the old weakness and dizziness. 
Then, out of the gathering mists in her mind, she saw 
the eyes of Napier, kind and pitiful. With a tremen- 
dous effort she became calm. She understood what 
Napier meant when he emphasised the word 66 ordeal.” 
And she knew also that her friend’s imperative injunc- 
tion to Camber was intended to save her confusion, to 
make him withdraw his amazed stare from her quiv- 
ering face. Harry turned. 

“ I’m attending,” he muttered. 

“ I shall be as untechnical as possible. Talin has 
the peculiar properties of stimulant narcotics. For 
instance, in very minute doses, it would act as a heart 
tonic. An overdose would produce coma and — 
death.” 

Again Camber glanced at Esther. But this time she 
valiantly confronted him with steady eyes. 

“ You don’t dare to ” 

Napier held up his hand. 

“ After you left I asked Miss Yorke to prepare a 
simple tincture. I left her alone in the laboratory 


THE PALADIN 


373 


where the cabinet containing the Talin stands. She 
and I are the only persons in the kingdom who know 
the combination of letters which opens the cabinet. 
When I came back, Miss Yorke was at work setting 
my apparatus in order. The tincture had been sent 
up. Struck by her appearance of physical distress, I 
urged her to visit a friend. She did so, returning in 
the evening. I had instructed the butler to show her 
in here on arrival.” 

He paused, twisting the pen in his thin fingers. 
Harry had absorbed every word of the narrative. Na- 
pier’s voice changed when it began again; it was 
softer, more sympathetic, no longer the voice of a 
prosecuting counsel, but rather that of an eloquent 
pleader for the defence. Esther noted the change, and 
understood it. Its subtlety was lost upon Harry, en- 
thralled by the significance of Napier’s words. 

66 1 wanted to see Miss Yorke to apologise for an 
unintentional want of consideration. I did so. Then I 
begged her to go to bed. Obviously, she was worn 
out. To my surprise, she asked permission to work 
in the laboratory, to finish the tidying-up, which, it 
happened I had done myself. I insisted upon bed, and 
she went upstairs. Shortly afterwards, I conceived 
the idea of trying a minute dose of Talin upon my 
patient. The gradual failing of the heart’s action was 
becoming very alarming. I opened the cabinet. The 
Talin was missing.” 

“ My God ! ” exclaimed Harry. 

Again Esther looked at him, and a faint derisive 
smile flickered across her face. 


374 


THE PALADIN 


“ I had reason to believe that the phial might be 
replaced. And it was replaced.” 

Harry sprang to his feet, his features convulsed and 
working, his voice harsh and broken. 

“ Not by — not by ? ” 

“ By me,” said Esther steadily. 

“ By — you ! ” 

“Why did you take the Talin? ” said Napier gently. 

Esther hesitated. Almost inaudibly she answered: 
“ To — to kill myself.” 

“ Why should you wish to kill yourself ? ” demanded 
Harry. “ Whatever happened you knew that I should 
stand by you.” 

“ There were several reasons, but I’ll give the great- 
est.” Again she paused, and Napier saw that she was 
very deeply moved. Then she said, speaking in a 
whisper, but with clearest articulation : “ I was not 

going to face starvation a second time.” 

“ Starvation ! ” exclaimed Harry. “ Starvation ? ” 
he repeated in a bewildered tone. “ You had me.” 

“ What made you change your mind? ” asked Na- 
pier, leaning forward. 

For the first time his voice betrayed eagerness and 
curiosity, but his eyes remained kind and sympathetic. 
Esther’s features hardened as she heard Harry repeat 
the question in an autocratic tone: 

“ Exactly ! What made you change your mind? ” 

She ignored him, meeting Napier’s questioning 
glance with dignity. But her voice — low, pleading, 
broken by emotion — indicated neither guilt nor inno- 
cence, only distress. 


THE PALADIN 


375 


“ The temptation to take it came suddenly. You 
might return at any moment. I was dismissed from 
the case; and it seemed a last chance, a chance I 
snatched at. Then I went to see my old friend Mi- 
randa Jagg. I found her in bed, in great pain. And 
then ” 

“ Yes?” 

“ I — I saw that I was w-w-wanted, that there was 
something to do, w-w-work which m-must be done.” 

The faltering, stammering utterance touched Napier 
to a profounder pity than he had yet experienced. 
Far otherwise did this halting, seemingly inadequate 
explanation affect our paladin. The passionate sur- 
prise and distress which had flamed in his face van- 
ished, leaving his handsome features dull and stolid. 
That his claims should be ignored and Miranda’s 
acknowledged at such a moment appeared preposterous. 
The accretions of conceit, ever increasing since the 
famous century at Lord’s, the insidious habit of self- 
indulgence which blinds its victims to self-denial in 
others, and, lastly, an inherited incapacity to con- 
sider anything or anybody from a point of view other 
than his own — these hounded him headlong to the con- 
viction that a more sinister motive had driven Esther 
to take the Talin. The unhappy creature, distracted 
by the fear of discovery and unable to trust the man 
she loved and who loved her, had yielded to an abom- 
inable temptation. She had taken the Talin, but — 
thank God — she had not used it. Want of trust! 
That accounted for so much in their lives. She had 
not trusted him when her father died, she had not 


376 


THE PALADIN 


trusted him at Mont Plaisir; she had not trusted him 
in this supreme moment. 

It is pathetic and humorous to reflect that had an- 
other — let us say, Dorothea — pointed out the high 
opportunity of protecting a damsel in peril, and of 
chivalrously accepting her story without comment, our 
Harry would have grasped it. Such imagination as 
he possessed would have reeled at the vision of him- 
self in the world’s lists, challenging all the champions 
of Christendom on behalf of his liege lady, an Ivanhoe 
ardent to risk life and honour for a despised and out- 
cast Rebecca. 

Napier said quietly: “ And so you replaced the 
Talin, hoping I should not discover that it had been 
taken? ” 

66 Yes.” After a pause she said impulsively: “ And 
you believe me, you are still my friend? ” 

“ I should be no friend,” he replied gravely, “ if I 
tried to make light of the terrible situation in which 
you have placed yourself, and Lord Camber, and me.” 

Harry raised his head. 

“What are you saying? What have I to do with 
this ? ” 

Napier met his glance. 

“ If the facts are made public, some suspicion will 
attach itself to — you.” 

“ Are you stark, staring mad? ” 

Esther and Harry rose together. Esther was evi- 
dently confounded by Napier’s words. Napier rose, 
too, throwing down the pen which he had been twist- 
ing in his fingers. His preparations were complete. 


THE PALADIN 


377 


Nothing remained now but to operate, to expose, as 
swiftly and cleanly as possible, this man’s soul, if he 
had one. 

“ 1 wish to make plain how this case may appear to 
others.” He turned to Harry. “ The charts are evi- 
dence that my patient’s health steadily improved till 
you appeared. You have admitted to me — and doubt- 
less to others — that your marriage was a blunder. 
It would be recalled that long ago you loved Miss 
Yorke and wished to marry her. If Lady Camber had 
recovered consciousness, a terrible scandal was inevi- 
table. Is it possible you don’t realise where you 
stand?” 

The question need not have been asked. Harry, 
since a child, had never failed to see what others were 
kind enough to point out. He beheld himself, the most 
conspicuous figure in an august assembly, about to be 
tried by his peers, with a rope of silk dangling above 
his head. 

Utterly confounded and upset, he almost screamed 
out : “ Before God, I swear that ” 

“ Lord Camber,” Napier’s voice was icy, “ this is so 
unnecessary. I am not your judge.” 

“ Judge! ” He wiped his forehead. “ I ask again — 
why should I be brought into this ? ” 

“ Motive is everything in such cases. Miss Yorke’s 
motive for taking the Talin is a credible one.” 

Harry answered violently, seeing himself pilloried, 
hearing his illustrious name defamed by newsboys: 

“ Of course it is credible. Why do you question it ? ” 

“ Personally, I do not question it.” 


378 


THE PALADIN 


“ Then what are we at ? What is the meaning of 
this sort of inquisition, this harrowing up of Miss 
Yorke’s feelings and mine? ” 

“ I’ll answer you. I know the exact quantity ol 
Talin that was in the phial. I cannot sign the certifi- 
cate till it has been demonstrated that the Talin has 
not been touched. I spent last night with a friend in 
the laboratory of the Society for Clinical Research. 
The analysis was a delicate and tedious business. 
When I left this morning, the results were not yet 
summed up.” 

“But you accept Miss Yorke’s explanation?” 

“ I do.” 

Harry stared at him. A reason, which justified a 
private inquiry, faintly illumined a befogged mind. 
This doctor, with a reputation at stake, admitted that 
he shrank from publicity. Impetuously be blurted out : 

“Mr. Napier, sign that certificate. Sign it! Prove 
your faith in Miss Yorke, clear her of this damnable 
suspicion by signing it at once.” 

“ And what would you do to prove your faith in 
Miss Yorke’s innocence? ” 

“ Anything — anything.” He blundered on like an 
elephant in a morass. “ I’m a rich man, I’d give half 
my fortune to save — her.” 

Napier smiled. 

“Are you trying to bribe me, Lord Camber?” 

“ No, no; can’t you see I’m distracted with misery? 
I’m not thinking of myself at all, only of her.” 

A rough sincerity emphasised the words. For the 
first time during the interview Napier considered the 


THE PALADIN 379 

possibility of having been mistaken in his estimate of 
Harry’s true character. He addressed Esther: 

“ I must have a few words in private with Lord 
Camber. Will you go into the laboratory ? ” 

“ If you wish it.” 

He accompanied her to the door, opening it. As 
she passed through she met Napier’s eyes, still stead- 
fastly kind. He had his back to Harry, and Esther 
caught the whisper, “ Courage ! ” Although she was 
perplexed, troubled indeed beyond expression, by Na- 
pier’s methods, one fact stood out above all obscur- 
ities. His trust had never failed. She held her head 
higher as she entered the bare, whitewashed room, and 
a faint smile parted her lips. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


THE PALADIN BEHOLDS HIMSELF AS HE IS 

Napier returned to his desk. Nor did he speak imme- 
diately. Camber’s attitude indicated unconditional 
surrender and deflation. And Esther had witnessed 
this attenuation of a once “ splendid specimen of man- 
hood.” She saw him as he was. But the effect of 
the operation — for so Napier regarded it — on her, the 
woman who had loved Harry, puzzled the operator. 
She had looked on coldly. Her self-control aroused 
apprehension. Inwardly she must be seething with in- 
dignation. And left alone she might be tempted once 
more to snatch at oblivion. He rejoiced that he had 
altered the combination of the cabinet. Upon the other 
hand, her love might have survived the ordeal, quick- 
ened by the sight of Harry’s misery and distress. And 
at the end his passionate affirmation of desiring to save 
her seemed to ring true. 

But was it true? 

“ Lord Camber,” he said, “ I know that so far as 
any possible administration of this drug is concerned 
you are innocent.” 

Harry answered miserably: “You have made me 
see how I stand, if any of the cursed drug has been 
taken.” 

“ It may relieve your mind to be told that Talin 
leaves no trace in the human system.” 

380 


THE PALADIN 


381 


“ Leaves no trace ? ” 

“ Till now it has defied my tests.” 

66 Do you mean — er — that in the event of an exami- 
nation it would be beyond the power of science to say 
whether it had been used or not? ” 

“ I mean exactly that.” 

“ Then, then ” His mind groped for the con- 

clusion to which he had been led, blindfold. “ Then a 
jury would have to give any accused person the ben- 
efit of the doubt?” 

“ I think so.” 

Harry dashed at the lure. 

<c In that case, I say again, sign the certificate.” 

“ You believe her to be absolutely innocent?” said 
Napier. 

“ I am sure of it,” Harry replied hurriedly. 

“ On your honour? ” 

“ On my honour.” 

Slowly Napier rose from his chair, and approaching 
our paladin held out his hand. 

“ Lord Camber, perhaps I have done you injustice. 
If I sign this certificate now, are you prepared to vin- 
dicate your belief in Miss Yorke’s innocence? 99 

Harry looked up. Could he have gazed into a glass, 
would he have recognised the famous cricketer and Im- 
perialist in the sorry figure staring confusedly at a 
man not half his size and with less than a quarter 
of his strength. 

“ Y-v-vindicate? ” he stammered. 

“ Yes.” 


“How? ” 


382 


THE PALADIN 


“ By marrying her in due time.” 

Harry winced. Then, to gain a moment, he repeated 
the words, “ By marrying her? ” 

“ Precisely. If your belief in Miss Yorke’s inno- 
cence is strong enough to make you marry her, my 
belief in her, fortified by your act, would justify me, 
I think, in signing this certificate.” 

Camber set his teeth. He had his back to the wall 
and knew it. 

“ Marry her? ” he growled out again. 

“ It’s the last word, Lord Camber.” 

The poor fellow tried to temporise. 

“ You talk of marriage at such a time as this?” 

“ You were the first to speak of marriage. If Miss 
Yorke is the only woman in the world for you, and if 
you are convinced, as you affirm on your honour, that 
she is innocent, what bar is there to your marriage? ” 

“ I won’t marry her,” said Harry between his 
teeth. 

“ Then you don’t believe in her innocence.” 

The paladin exploded. 

“Damn you! You don’t believe in her innocence 
either ! ” 

Napier replied with a smile. Beneath it Harry 
writhed, sensible that this man smiled, as if he, the 
mighty one, were of no more account than a pinch of 
snuff ; and, with a quiver of terror, he vaguely under- 
stood that worse was to come, that this inquisitor held 
in reserve some other instrument of torture. 

“ Why do you look at me like that ? ” he asked with 
pitiable defiance. 


THE PALADIN 


383 


“ Miss Yorke is alone in the laboratory. The cab- 
inet is in the laboratory.” 

“ The cabinet ! ” 

“Don’t you understand ?” 

Harry recoiled. 

“You wouldn’t dare !” He broke off, shud- 

dering. 

“ If she is innocent,” said Napier solemnly, “ you 
are the last man in the world to blame me for what 
I have done.” 

“ You are fiendishly cold-blooded ! Oh — it’s too hor- 
rible. And at this moment ! ” He groaned, then 

he said fiercely : “ Open the door, sir. I insist ! ” 

“ You can open it,” said Napier. 

“ I — I — dare not ! ” 

“ Then I will.” 

Napier walked to the door, opened it, and said in 
his ordinary voice, “ Miss Yorke? ” 

Instantly, Esther came back into the library. Na- 
pier took her hand, and holding it addressed Harry: 

“ Lord Camber, I need hardly say that I sent Miss 
Yorke into the laboratory to test you — not her.” 

Harry gasped out : “ To test — me ? ” 

“ For one atrocious moment last night I thought 
she might be guilty. The motive, the opportunity, 
the circumstantial evidence overwhelmed me. But after 
the first shock I was willing to stake my life that 
Esther Yorke is incapable of wilfully injuring anyone 
except — herself.” 

“ Thank you,” said Esther, in a whisper. 

Harry’s normal tone and manner returned to him. 


384 ? 


THE PALADIN 


“ But you don’t know for certain yet? ” 

Napier went to his desk and picked up the sealed 
envelope which Buckle had brought in. 

“ The result is here,” he said. “ The phial con- 
tained exactly two fluid drachms and twenty-seven 
minims of Talin.” He broke open the envelope, with- 
drew the enclosure, and handed it with a slight bow 
to Esther. 

“ Will you read it? ” he said gravely. 

Esther read aloud: “The phial submitted to us 
for analysis contains two fluid drachms and twenty- 
seven minims of the new vegetable alkaloid, Talin.” 

“ You have played a trick on me,” said Harry 
loudly. 

“ You played a trick on me yesterday. I planned 
this scene, Lord Camber, because I wanted to find out 
whether you were worthy of the woman I love.” 

“ You love her?” Harry exclaimed. “And you let 
her go in there ? ” 

“ I changed the combination of the cabinet,” Na- 
pier replied. “ My late patient might have been a 
happy woman, but she married the wrong man. I 
love Miss Yorke too well to allow her to make a sim- 
ilar mistake. That is my justification for what I have 
done this morning.” 

Pie spoke with extraordinary dignity, and the effect 
of his words upon our paladin was remarkable. At 
last he saw himself as these two persons saw him, 
stripped of his lion’s skin, with never a roar left in 
him. And the shock of the vision nearly unbalanced 
a mind which disuse had somewhat atrophied. In his 


THE PALADIN 


385 


weakness he clutched at what was left. His big blue 
eyes turned beseechingly to Esther. 

u You did love me,” he muttered, “ and I love you.” 

“ I never loved you,” said Esther gently. “ As a 
girl, I thought you were a hero — and I adored 
heroes ! ” She paused, recalling emotions and sensibil- 
ities dulled by years of adversity. 

“You loved me when I came to you after your 
father’s death.” 

“ I mistook pity for love. I could have loved you 
then, if — if you had not marked time. I ran away 
from Mont Plaisir because I did not love you. If I 
had really loved you I should have stayed whether 
you meant to marry me or not. For the third time in 
our lives you are willing to marry me, but, always, 
always, Harry, you have been too late.” 

He had sense enough to realise that no further ap- 
peal was possible. 

Happiness had hung within reach, but he had not 
stretched out his hands quick enough. Nobody would 
ever know it, except these two and himself, and we 
may venture to predict that this knowledge would turn 
the many gifts which the gods had showered upon him 
into galling burdens. He stared so piteously at 
Esther, that tears of sympathy filled her eyes. 

“I wish I could help you,” she whispered. 

He went out, abashed. 

“ Can you forgive me? ” said Napier, as soon as 
they were alone. Then, without waiting for an answer, 
he added confusedly : “ I took for granted that you 


386 


THE PALADIN 


loved Lord Camber, otherwise I should not have ex- 
posed you to such an ordeal.” 

“ You are wonderful,” replied Esther, “ but before 
you say another word I must tell you everything. Even 
now you must think it astounding that I concealed so 
much which you ought to have known. But I owed 
him an enormous debt.” 

Then she spoke, keeping nothing back, laying her 
life before him. Not even to Miranda had she so un- 
veiled her inmost self. Nor was that self spared. The 
man listening to her understood the much that was said 
and the little left unsaid; for his own strength had 
grown out of the weakness of the flesh. When she had 
finished he took her hand. 

“ I need not have altered the combination of the 
cabinet,” he muttered. 

“ That was quite unnecessary, but you did not know 
that I had promised to go back to Miranda.” 

“ And when will you come to me, Esther? ” 

“ Come to you?” 

“ As my wife.” 

She smiled. 

“You have not even asked me if — if I care,” she 
whispered. Then, unwilling to keep him even an in- 
stant in suspense, she added: “I do care. Perhaps 
I have always cared, ever since the first meeting. Your 
eyes haunted me, the eyes of the man who I thought 
was going to insult me, but whose only thought has 
been to help me.” 

Outside, much snow had fallen. And through the 


THE PALADIN 


387 


snow Esther went to Miranda. London had draped 
itself in purest white, a virginal city awaiting the warm 
kisses of the sun. Very soon this bridal robe must be 
discarded as too fine for workaday uses ; and Esther 
rejoiced that it was so. London in blackest fog, Lon- 
don in whitest snow, alike were unreal and fantastic, 
cities of illusion. Henceforward, though mirage might 
allure her, what was real and substantial and enduring 
would alone enthrall. And, henceforward, unbeguiled 
by outward appearance, however fair, she would strive 
to penetrate beneath the surface of men and things, 
in an ardent quest for the divine beauty obscured, but 
never altogether destroyed, by the careless hands of 
the children of men. 


THE END 




< 


. 







* 


































































































# 



















J 


/ 




\ 


















































